Original Days
by NaylorFan90
Summary: One year after the conclusion of Better Days, Fisk Black returns to The Company to train a new agent. Things soon take a turn for the worse, however, when a mysterious masked figure starts murdering senators! Can Fisk unravel the mystery of Mr. White?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Better Days, and its characters, is the sole intellectual property of Jay Naylor.

Original Days

Chapter One: the Phone Call

* * *

RIINNG! RIINNG! RIINNG!

"Aaawh! Aah, Waaah!"

"Ugh."

Fisk Black was many things; son, brother, husband, war veteran, trained killer responsible for the deaths of hundreds. But the only thing he was at the moment was a sleep-deprived father. How did his mom do it by herself? Beside him, his wife Elizabeth was waking up as well.

Fisk glanced at the clock, then at her, "I'll get the phone, you take the kitten." All he got was a yawn in response. He took that as an okay and got up and went to the door.

Unfortunately, not even his military training could save him from any husbands' worse enemy: the dreaded stubbed toe.

"Argh, damn it!"

"Honey, language."

"...Sorry dear."

He was wide awake after that. He reached the kitchen, picked the phone up, and asked who was calling at, 6:30? Oh.

"Hey Fisk it's me, Ryan. We need to talk." Ryan was once his best friend when they were teens, until his father started having an affair with Fisk's mom. After that Ryan had to move away with his mother. Years later they met again at "The Company", with Ryan as his superior. Although, since Ryan's dad married Fisk's mom, they were technically stepbrothers, even though they didn't feel like it.

"_He sounds excited, something must be up." _Fisk thought to himself. "What's up, how are you?" He replied.

"I am fine, just got over a cold. How is the family?"

"We're fine, still getting used to the new sleep schedule, but we think it's worth it so far."

Ryan took a couple of seconds to respond. "_That isn't like him, he always knows what to say and when. What's going on_?"

"Wow, a year of parenthood and you're still getting used to it? Remind me never to have kids. How is your new job going, by the way?" At Fisks' silence he got the idea. "Didn't work out, huh?"

Fisk thought about his idea to open a self-defense school, and its results. "Let's just say that I got a bit too much into the sparring. Thankfully, no one suffered any permanent damage." He could tell that Ryan was trying to stifle his laughter on the other end of the phone, so Fisk decided to force the issue. "Listen, Ryan, I know you didn't call just to talk about how we each are doing, so cut to the chase.

Ryan seemed to have expected this, and prepared accordingly. "Right, sorry, I just wanted to find out how you were before I brought this up. I would like your help with something at the company."

"_I thought as much."_ Fisk thought to himself before responding, "I thought I made myself clear when I left. The kind of work I did is not something I want to do forever, especially now that I have a kid. I am sorry, but you will have to find someone else."

He started to put the phone up when he heard Ryan yell something. Putting it back to his ear, Fisk hesitantly asked "What was that?"

"I said that I don't need you for any missions. There is a new agent coming in and I would like you to come in for a week or two and show him the ropes. Tracking, investigating, blending in; all the typical spookery stuff you had to learn. You won't be doing anything dangerous or life-threatening at all."

Fisk was puzzled, to say the least. "Don't you have any active agents who could do it? They can't all be on missions."

"Fisk, first of all, stop being so modest and view the situation objectively. You were the best agent this company as ever seen, with the second highest number of completed missions. Anyone would kill to be mentored by you. Secondly, I have a very strong feeling that you will want to meet this particular person in, err, person. He certainly wants to meet you."

Fisk knew he should hang up, because he was actually beginning to consider what Ryan was saying. Sighing softly, he asked, "Promise nothing I could die during?"

"I promise, you won't even leave the country."

By this time, the baby had been calmed down, and Elizabeth had come into the room and started on breakfast. Fisk sighed yet again, and said, "Listen, let me ask my wife for her opinion, okay? I'll call back in a bit with my answer." And before his stepbrother could respond, he hung up.

Turning around, he walked to the other side of the kitchen, where his wife was making eggs, and hugged her from behind. "Good morning dear. How was Janie?"

"Everything was fine. I guess she was just woken up by the phone, because she went right back to sleep once I calmed her down."

As Fisk got the coffee ready for them, he continued the unspoken change in topic. "Speaking of the phone, how much of that did you hear?"

She waited until they were both seated before she answered. "Enough to know what you're thinking. I think that you should go." At his startled expression she continued. "I mean, it might be nice for you to see Ryan again. You didn't exactly part on the best of terms, remember? And besides, aren't you the least bit curious about who it is he wants you to train? It could be someone we know."

Fisk still wanted to put up a fight however. "But are you sure you will be able to handle things around here by yourself? And what about my search for a job?"

She suddenly gave him a "will you stop being an idiot and listen to your wife?" look, and said slowly, as if speaking to a slow person, "Honey, I grew up with five younger siblings, I think I can handle things here for a couple of weeks. And about the job search, you know you can always take over at your stepdad's job.

"I don't know, it just seems like a step back to me. I want to live life how I want to, not as a, well…"

"A shadow of your father? Fisk, whatever you do I am sure he would be proud of you."

Fisk didn't say anything for the rest of the meal. As soon he was done eating he stood up, put his dishes in the sink, and picked up the phone. He dialed the number and waited until it was picked up on the other end

"Fisk? Have you made your decision?"

Fisk glanced at his daughters' bedroom once, silently saying goodbye, than replied "I'm in."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Better Days or Original Life. This is a good thing, because if I did I would probably do something idiotic and make them TV shows or something. So there you have it.

Original Days

Chapter two: Will to Power

Drip…drip…drip…

"_A United States senator. A powerful, respected man. He was idolized by his employees and acknowledged by his fellow congressmen for his quick thinking and ability to completely turn a losing strategy around. And now, he is dead."_

A lone figure stepped away from a fallen body, slowly wiping the victim's blood from his weapon.

"_It is funny actually. All of that power, that __**Respect,**__ that influence, couldn't save this person from multiple blows to the back of the head from an expandable baton, the kind you could find any police officer with. This was all it took to end his life."_

The figure finished cleaning it's weapon and went for the door, through which it would reach the stairs, go down them, and head for the exit.

"_He had to die, of course. He had become content. Content to keep the situation as it is. To let us all wither on the vine because it would be too much trouble to __**advance**__. He lacked the Will, the Drive, to thrive. Contentment is death."_

As the figure stepped into the light of the stairwell, anyone looking would see that it was dressed in an expensive looking snow-white business suit, with a white ceramic mask hiding all facial features except his cold blue eyes. The recently cleaned baton was hidden in his right sleeve.

"_It is why the great, the truly __**great**__, never live in peace and quiet. They are not fit for peace; they will destroy it, ruin it, and in turn be ruined by it. To deny this would be to deny one's own nature."_

As the figure entered its car and prepared to drive away, its thoughts turned to other matters. But back in the office where it had committed murder, something was happening that would prove the ruin of all of its plans. The senator was barely clinging to life, and knew he had little time before the end. So, with all the strength he could muster, he began scribbling on the floor in his own blood, desperate to leave a clue of some kind. The senator wrote one word before the life left his eyes completely, but this one word was enough. The word was **White.**


	3. The New Black

Disclaimer: Yeah, I totally own Better Days…NOT!

Original Days

Chapter Three: the New Black

It was three days after the phone call when Fisk arrived at his destination. Starnes and Dye, incorporated; A small "investment firm", doing most of its business transactions over the phone and computer. At least, this was its public identity. In reality it is an intelligence service, with its own private operations.

Originally part of the C.I.A., after the Vietnam War it cut all official ties with the government and went completely undercover; doing things the official agencies either can't or won't do. And this is where Fisk Black found himself once again.

"_Wow, this place has changed,"_ he thought to himself as he waited in the main foyer for Ryan. "_Back when I worked here we didn't even have a foyer."_

Indeed, the place had experienced a fast growth spurt since he had left. Where once there was standard wood and plaster there was glass and steel. Everything had a newer, more expensive look to it as well. "_And, is that, statuary over there?"_

"Hey Fisk!" Turning, Fisk saw Ryan heading his way from the elevators.

"Hey Ryan." Fisk returned the response.

Ryan gave his stepbrother a hearty handshake, and then began to lead him to the elevators. "Boy Fisk, you look almost as lost as when you first came here. Remind me never to retire."

"Oh, it's not retirement that's the problem, it is this place. I should leave places more often if this is what will happen. How could you afford all of this?"

"Well for starters, you are now looking at the new Director of Mission Resources. I have made many changes to our methods and routines for intelligence-gathering and other activities. I have also stepped-up recruitments efforts. These improvements have increased our revenue by 32%."

As Ryan said this they left the elevator and made their way down the long hall towards what appeared to be a large lounge-type area, with several bookshelves and chairs situated strategically. There were also several televisions along the walls, set on different news channels. There was only one other person in the room.

"But we can talk more about that later; let's get to the reason you're here."

As they made their way to the lone figure sitting in the corner, Fisk began to take stock of him. "_Hmm, Cat, about my height, red leather jacket over black shirt and denim jeans. Informal, isn't he? Nice gloves though. Black fur except for white patch over left eye and he's…_

"**ZZZZ"**

"Asleep!?" Fisk couldn't help but exclaim. Here he was, taking time away from his family to go back to his old job to train someone, and his trainee was asleep!?

Ryan seemed to feel the same way. "Wow, I guess Marines really can sleep anywhere." At the questioning look from Fisk, he decided to elaborate. "Marine, left the service after his contract expired, then traveled the world for about two years. He received excellent marks in all areas of combat training, as well as exceptional skill in reading body language. Though from my personal experiences with him so far, he doesn't seem to have much social skill."

Here he turned to face his listener completely. "This is were you come in. What I have is a fighter, a crude instrument. What I need is a quiet and efficient agent. Think you can handle it?

Fisk took a moment to respond, and when he did Ryan thought that he detected a slight bit of amusement in his tone. "Well, that all sounds like a tall order to fill. Maybe I should get his opinion on the matter."

"Aww, how'd you know I woke up? I kept my breathing th' same and everything!"

Fisk responded, and this time he couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice. "Yeah, you did do everything, except **keeping your eyes closed.**"

"Oh yeah, the eyes. Well, I guess I should stand up and introduce myself, uh?" Here he stood up from the chair, letting Fisk properly measure him as being a bit shorter and a bit broader then himself. "Now, I admit it, when I first heard of you I thought it was some kind of stupid joke, but hey, here you are!"

Fisk decided to take this as a compliment. "Well thank you, I didn't realize I had made that large of an impression on people around here."

"An impression? No you… wait, Ryan haven't you told him yet?"

Thankful for the chance to get back into the conversation, Ryan responded. "No, I was going to let you. Is that a problem?"

"Not at all! Hello Fisk Black, I am Jason Black, your cousin. It's great to finally meet you."

After this quick proclamation of relatedness, Fisk stared at him for a minute, and then turned to Ryan. "Ryan, your sense of humor hasn't improved at all." He then promptly proceeded to walk back to the elevator.

"Fisk, wait!" Ryan called, going after him. Jason stood there for a moment with a surprisingly saddened look on his face, and then went to catch up. "I should've expected that."

They caught up to him just as he was calling the elevator. Ryan immediately started talking.

"Fisk, I promise this is not a joke. Jason here is your cousin from the father's side."

"Then why have I never seen him before in my life? Where has he been? I don't know about you, but I'm not quite used to new family members popping out of nowhere."

"I can answer that." Jason said, stepping forward to block Fisk's path to the door. "But just so ya' know, I'm not used to family popping up either. My father was angry at his brother for marrying 'below our class', as I heard he put it. Got rid of any reminders of him he could find. It wasn't 'til Ryan here came to me and offered me a job that I even found out about ya'. I don't know what you think, but the more family the better in my mind!" He finished with quite possibly the most idiotically happy grin either Fisk or Ryan had ever seen.

"_There is no way that is real."_ They both thought, but decided to ask about it later.

"Well, there's no harm in getting to know you, I guess." Fisk responded, stepping into the waiting elevator. Turning around to face them again, he continued, "Come on, I know some other people in town who will want to meet you."

Jason was practically glowing in happiness. "Hooray, more FRIENDS!!"

Fisk gave him a death glare, "Please don't yell like that again." Turning to see that his stepbrother was on the phone, he let the door close and hit the button for the bottom floor.

They were just stepping out of the elevator, Fisk wondering when to introduce Jason to his sister Lucy, when Fisk's cell rang. He fished it out of pocket, opened it, and put it to his ear; Ryan was on the other side. "Fisk, we have a situation."

"Damn, this place is a mess." Jason joked while looking around the trashed office.

"Jason, show some respect to the deceased, will you?" Fisk warned, going over the room with a soldiers' attention to detail.

"Yeah yeah, sure. Why are we in some dead guy's office, anyway? This ain't exactly what I was expecting when I signed up."

"Right now we are waiting for the man who called us to arrive. We owed him a favor after he helped some of our money trails disappear. And what exactly **were **you expecting?"

"To do the killing of course."

Immediately after this, the door opened, and an anxious middle-aged Wolf walked in. "Thank goodness you sent some- Black! This is even better! I thought you had retired though?

Fisk turned to him. "Hello Senator Zimmer. I did, but I came back temporarily to train a new agent. This is him." Jason smiled and waved. "Now do you mind telling me why we are here?"

"Of course; late last night the owner of this office, and a good friend of mine, Senator Almsway, was killed. The police have already been through here, but I was able to get them to keep everything the way it was; except for the body, as you can see."Here he looked straight up into Fisk's eyes. "He and I were very good friends and colleagues. I want this murderer brought to justice."

Fisk nodded in understanding. "I will do my best, though you must understand that this isn't really what we normally do. Now," he said, looking at Jason to see he was examining a blood stain. "Do you have any ideas about who did this? What kind of work was he doing?"

The senator took a moment to compose his thoughts, understandable, given his situation. "The only thing he was doing recently was presiding over an oversight committee for a new energy project. I am also a member of it. He was a very vocal opponent of the project. Do you think that it has anything to do with this?"

"It is possible. Who is in charge of this project?"

"A Mr. William Hite, Why?"

Before Fisk could respond, Jason called out, "I think I have something over here!"

Rushing over, Fisk replied, "What!?" With his index finger, Jason traced a slight pattern in the blood. "I wasn't sure about it before, but after looking at it from several angles, I am sure White is spelled here." Turning to the out-of-the-loop senator, Jason asked him, "Do you know anyone by the name of White?"

Seeing Zimmer shake his head no, Fisk came to a decision. "Okay, here is the plan. Jason, I want you to go back to the company and search through the databases for anyone named White, okay? I'm going to check out the energy project and question the workers there."

As they were leaving, Zimmer asked Fisk a question that was bothering him. "How are you going to get in to see Mr. Hite? Only people who work there or are invited get into his lab."

As an answer, Fisk started dialing a number into his cell. "Don't worry, I have a way."

Finishing, he put the phone to his ear, "Hey Sis, how are you?"

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: So, what ya'll think? The plot is finally getting underway, so stay tuned for the next chapter of "Original Life". Updates every Tuesday and Saturday.


	4. Familiar Faces, New Places

Original Days

Chapter Four: Familiar Faces

It was late morning. Two figures stood at the entrance to a small warehouse on the edge of the Potomac River, a man and a woman. The male was a white-furred Rabbit, of medium height and build; his name was Tommy Erikson. The female was a Cat of slim build, with black and white fur, and her hair pulled back into a shoulder-length ponytail; her name was Lucy Erikson, the sister of Fisk Black. At the moment they were waiting for Fisk to arrive after calling them the day before.

"I'm going for another soda, you want anything?"

"Honey, if you put any more quarters into that vending machine, you'll have payed off the national dept."

He took a second to respond, "…cool?"

Lucy shook her amused exasperation. While he had matured a good deal since Leo had come around, Tommy was still a goofball sometimes, she thought. If only she knew what was heading their way.

Turning her head back to the road, Lucy continued on her lookout for Fisk.

"_Not that looking helps much since he failed to mention what his new car looks like. Probably something big and expensive, with racing stripes and…is that a pink Volkswagen beetle?"_ She could do little else but stand there while the car pulled into the area and moved towards them. She could barely make out what sounded like a heated argument coming from inside it.

"No I will not let you 'soup up' this car; my wife got it for me!"

"But it's so slow! Come on, I'll even throw in a new paint job, what do you say Fish?"

"I said no! And stop calling me that!" Slamming his car door Fisk marched quickly towards the dumbfounded couple, Jason getting out of the passenger side and following him.

At the sound of the car doors closing she snapped out of her daze and embraced her twin brother in a warm hug. "Hey Fisk, it's been too long."

He returned the hug, and then started asking the usual questions. "Hey sis, you're looking well. How are things?"

"Oh, they're really great. Tommy got a raise so we plan on moving into a bigger house soon. Leo is as curious as ever. Just last week I found him playing with my old photo album like it was a hat." This got a chuckle from both of them. "Well you should bring him by sometime, Janie would love the company."

She smiled and nodded. "I'll be sure to do that."

Suddenly, Fisk noticed something strange. It was quiet; too quiet. Looking around for Jason, he found him in a staring contest with Tommy. Lucy motioned with her head to him, "So, who's your friend?"

Fisk grimaced, reaching a hand up to scratch at the back of his head as he thought about how to break the news. "He's not my friend; he's actually our cousin. from dad's side."

Blinking in surprise, Lucy turned and walked over to the object of their conversation, looked him up and down, and then gave him a friendly slap on the back, "Sweet! Welcome to the family!"

Jason smiled and responded, "Gosh, thanks!", then turned to Fisk. "Say Fish, how can they help us again?"

Fisk's eye twitched at the nickname. "I'll explain on the way in. We don't want to keep your friend waiting too long, do we Tommy?"

As they entered the building and made their way to the receptionist, Fisk and Jason gravitated to the back so that they could whisper without the other two hearing. "Listen, a college friend of Tommy's works here. Several weeks ago he invited them to his workplace for a tour."

"Oh, so the call you made was to see if we could come along? Smart."

Fisk shrugged at this. "Well, I try."

Waiting at the reception desk stood Tommy's friend. He was a short Rabbit with creamy gold fur and thick-rimmed glasses. Tommy was the first to speak. "Jay Oralyn, it has been too long!"

"Hey buddy, glad you were able to make it. And you brought your lovely wife as well, perfect. He stopped to adjust his glasses. "Although you must forgive me, I don't quite recognize your two friends here."

"These two are my brother-in-law Fisk Black and his cousin Jason." Tommy suddenly got a worried look on his face. "Uh, it's okay to bring them, right?"

"Sure it is! My boss probably wouldn't admit it, but he has been looking forward to this ever since I asked him for permission. He likes to show off his work; I guess it's a genius thing." At this he motioned for them to follow him, "Come on, we can talk more on the elevator."

This got Fisks' attention. "Elevator?"

"Yeah, it's more of a cargo lift really. Most of the real lab work is done in a big underground area beneath this building. You will get to see it in a moment."

Once in the large lift and going down, Jason asked the first question. "So what kind of project is this anyway?"

"Well, I can't exactly go into all of the hard science of it, but basically we are developing a new type of nuclear reactor. One several magnitudes more powerful than the ones currently seing use now." Seeing the troubled looks on his audiences' faces' he could only ask, "What did I say?"

Fisk recovered first. "You're telling me, that there is what amounts to a NUCLEAR BOMB under our nation's capital? And you're acting like nothing is wrong?"

Jay adjusted his glasses before answering. "Wow, when you put it like that we do sound stupid, don't we? Don't worry though; we have dozens of safety measures installed. The biggest of which is the Potomac River itself. If all other measures fail, special floodgates can be opened to flood every square inch of this compound with highly pressurized river water; enough to completely drown out any out-of-control reaction."

The elevator reached its destination, and the small group exited into a rectangular hallway roughly half the width and length of a football field. There were three doorways to both the left and the right. At the far side there was a reinforced door slightly larger than the others, with a sign reading "Control Room" above it. The door was open at the moment, and a soft blue light was emanating from beyond it.

Ignoring the other doors, Jay made his way there, with the rest of the group following close behind. "You all chose a good time to visit; it seems Mr. Hite is running another test run. We can watch from the control room."

The inside of the control room reminded Fisk of something from a science fiction movie. Large computers lined three of the four dark grey metal walls, with the forth being taken up by a huge window. In the center of the room was a strange table-like device reaching up to about his hip. The device displayed what he assumed to be a graphical representation of the facility.

But what really got his attention was what was on the other side of the glass; what looked like a roiling ball of blue fire, surrounded by six pylons in a hexagon shape. The ball itself was about the size of a large hot air balloon, with bolts of electricity crackling from it to the pylons.

Several of the scientists looked up from what they were doing when the group entered, then went back to work. All except the one who had been standing by the window and was now striding leisurely towards them.

Jay quickly whispered to them, "That is my boss, Mr. Hite. Please be on your best behavior when you meet him. And no gum!" Jason immediately stopped his chewing and swallowed.

Hite was a Cougar, with pale tan fur, almost white; except for a strange triangular stripe of black under each eye. He was also tall, easily 6' 6", with broad shoulders and what could only be described as an olympic athlete's physique. Fisk, Jason, and Tommy found themselves immediately envious of the tall scientist.

"Hello, Mr. Oralyn, it is fortunate that you were **able **to join us. I assume these are the guests you have been speaking of? It is a pleasure to meet you." Holding out his hand, he asked, "I am sorry, but I do not remember any of **your** names. May I ask what they are?"

Tommy stepped forward and shook the offered hand, "I'm Tommy Erikson," pointing behind him, he continued. "This is my wife Lucy, her brother Fisk Black, and her cousin Jason Black."

Fisk thought that he saw surprise cross Hite's face for a second, but it was gone a second later, replaced by the same cool, charismatic calm he'd had when the conversation began. Turning his head to the side, he and Jason silently communicated. Jason had seen it as well.

"I see; it is a pleasure to meet all of you. Now that we **are **all introduced, let us begin the tour. If you would all follow me…"

Three hours later, the tour was done. During it, Mr. Hite gave them a brief summary of the history of the project, from its start in 1993 to the present, as well as an explanation of his goals for it. "For too **long** has our country funded terrorists and foreign **powers** with our dependence on their oil, while others like China and Japan advance beyond us by leaps and bound. We must stop being content with the way things **are**, and move forward."

Fisk had to admit, if Hite had become a politician, he would have gotten far.

As they were leaving, Hite accompanied them to the elevator. "I hope you enjoyed your time here, even through all of the unfortunate technical speak. On my part, it was relaxing to be able to get away from **my** troubles for even a little bit.

Fisk asked, "What kind of troubles, if you don't mind my asking?"

Hite smiled, showing off his perfectly straight, dazzlingly white, and razor sharp teeth. "Nothing to worry **about**, just a minor disagreement with the committee overseeing my project. It should **be** cleared up soon."

Getting on the lift, Lucy turned to ask Fisk if he wanted to get lunch somewhere when she noticed that both he and Jason were still standing by their guide. "Hey Fisk, aren't you coming?"

He looked at her and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, but Jason and I have some unfinished business to take care of here. Let's meet up for dinner tonight." Seeing her shake her head in the affirmative and the lift start to go up, he turned his attention back to Hite, who seemed to have been expecting this. "I am sorry Mr. Hite, but there are some things my partner and I need to discuss with you.

"Naturally. Follow me to my **office**; we do not want the employees getting the wrong idea about anything, do we?"

Hite's office was not one of the places covered earlier, so Fisk was caught off-guard upon entering it. Accessed through a door connecting from the main control room, what looked like a plain mirrored wall on the outside was really a one-way mirror. "_Handy for keeping an eye on your workers." _Fisk thought as he examined the rest of the room._ "Plain white walls with diplomas and awards hanging up; no paintings or any other kind of decoration, guess he doesn't want to look like he is wasting any money. Or he is just a boring guy."_

At the center of the room was a large oak desk with a computer, papers, and a solitary picture-frame on it. The frame held a picture of a beautiful Japanese Cat, dressed in the traditional Japanese wedding gown. The only chair in the room was a large leather one behind the desk. Hite was currently in it, going through an unmarked folder.

"So, Mr. Black, what are the other matters that you want to speak **with** me about?"

Fisk cleared his throat, and then spoke. "Last Wednesday at roughly 11' o'clock at night, Senator Almsway was murdered."

Hite's head shot up from where he was reviewing a file, a shocked expression on his face. "Almsway, dead?" Putting the file down, he gave the two agents his full attention. "And you believe it was done by someone in this facility?"

Jason spoke up "What gave you that idea?

"Well, he was on the congressional committee overseeing this project. Recently, however, he had begun questioning the worth of all this **effort**. He did not attempt at all to hide his feelings either, often expressing his opinion within hearshot of thw workers here. Everyone on this project knew about it, and therefore everyone is a suspect."

Here he looked Fisk straight in the eye. "That is also the only **reason** for Company agents to be here."

Fisk kept himself calm on the outside, but inside he was reeling. _"How does he know what we are?" _Out loud he said, "I see you know of us."

"Let us merely say that I have had…experiences with 'Starnes & Dye, incorporated. And if you look any further into these experiences, I cannot promise your safety. Now, back to the main **topic **at hand. If someone here **did **kill the senator, then there are most likely two other targets.

"Who else could be in danger?" asked Jason eagerly, excited for a new lead.

"The other two detractors of **my **project; Senator Zimmer, who I **assume **is the reason you are on this case in the first place; and Senator **Netton**, a most…unlikable fellow. Those two and Almsway are the least interested in seeing my project come to fruition."

After letting them ponder this for a few seconds, Hite told them that unless there was anything else, he had some work to do; and that they could come by again if they ever had any more questions. Once they were gone, he stopped all semblance of working, stood up, and moved to a section of wall behind his chair. In this section was a secret compartment, out of which he retrieved a worn-out old photograph. Sitting back in his chair, Hite sat looking at the picture for uncounted minutes while sad and happy memories alike marched through his head. Eventually, one thought came to the service, and escaped as a quiet whisper. "I see the resemblance…"


	5. Dine & Dash

Disclaimer: Jay Naylor owns Better Days. Jay Naylor owns the characters of Better Days. I own a half-drunk glass bottle of Root Beer. Capiche?

Original Days

Chapter Five: Dine & Dash

/

Jason stood in front of his mirror, trying to make himself presentable and wondering if he should get a haircut soon. Not that he was bothered by his nearly shoulder-length raven-black hair, he just wondered if maybe his newly-found relatives might. Earlier that day after their meeting with Hite, he had been invited by Fisk to join them at dinner that night. Well, really it was Lucy who invited him through Fisk, but that wasn't important. At least, Jason didn't think it was important.

"_I am so excited! My first dinner with family; real family. We'll talk about our lives, and eat, and I'll tell some jokes, and they'll laugh and..."_ Here he paused with a worried look on his face, _"but what if they don't like jokes? What if they don't think that I'm funny? There's always the chance they find me offensive! Damn it, why is the only time you're allowed to be offensive is when you're fighting!"_

Jason stood for another moment, truly fearing that they might not like him, then went "Nah, I'm too awesome for that", grabbed his jacket and his helmet, and raced out the door. He felt like driving his motorcycle that night.

/

The restaurant they were meeting up at was a nice Italian place called _Barolo_. Due to construction going on nearby the place wasn't very crowded, and so the group was seated almost immediately; a rectangular table nearer the center of the room.

After they made their orders, Jason spoke first. "So, here we are; two different branches of the same family finally meeting. Neither group even knowing of the other for our entire lives up to this point…THIS IS AWESOME!" He yelled, not noticing several glares coming at him from other diners who just had their glasses shatter.

Rubbing her injured ears while Tommy picked himself up from where he had fallen out of his chair, Lucy asked Fisk "Is he always this loud?"

"Since I first met him. Just go with it."

Jason looked hurt. "Oh come on Fish, lighten up. You have to admit that this is AWE-"

"Don't do that again."

"If you wish, Fish."

Fisk growled, but before he could do anything, Tommy asked a question that was bugging him. "I'm curious, why do you call him that?"

"You mean why do I call Fisk here Fish? Because 'Fisk' means 'a fisherman', and I thought that would take too long to say so I shortened it."

Hearing this, Lucy and Tommy began to snicker, while Fisk looked annoyed. "_If you want the short way of saying it, say Fisk!"_

Jason seemed to guess what Fisk was thinking and added, "But if it makes you feel any better, I'll call everyone by what their name means. I 'd do that anyway, honestly. Hey Light," he turned to Lucy, "lets share some stories. What is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to Fisk?"

Rather liking the nickname, Lucy thought for a moment, and then got the most devious look on her face any of them had ever seen, which was saying something considering the type of people Fisk used to "deal with". Needless to say, Fisk was very concerned for his immediate sense of self-worth.

"Well, it all started when we were kids…"

/

"Bwahahahaa!"

Fisk was beginning to get annoyed. Very annoyed. It was bad enough when his sister told a someone who was more or less a complete stranger about the time when he almost got rabies because the shredded pig skins he was pretending to be the foreskins of a hundred slain lawyers attracted some wild dogs. "_Hey, I thought it was a good idea at the time!" _Then she told of when the love letter he asked her to give to someone got lost and ended up in the girl's locker room! "_I didn't think it was possible for someone to laugh as hard as he does."_

When this story was over Jason told of how one time, his brother had been playing around with their house's telecom system, and somehow broadcast their father's shower singing across the entire neighborhood. For a moment Fisk thought Tommy was going to have a heart attack from all of the laughing he did!

After several more stories of that nature from all around the table the food arrived, and the conversation turned to other kinds of stories, like when Lucy met Tommy and such.

During the stories, Fisk had really begun to like Jason, despite his brash personality and complete lack of manners; and yet, something was bothering him. None of the stories Jason had told them seemed to actually have **him** in them. It was like he was not even there to begin with, something that just rubbed Fisk the wrong way. Glancing to his left where Jason seemed to be showing off his ability to eat and talk clearly at the same time, he went over everything he knew about his loud cousin. "_Let's see: loud, humorous, attention-grabbing, boastful."_ He just sat there for a moment. "_That is a short list. That can't be all there is to him. No one can be like that all of the time..."_

Fisk decided right then to get to the bottom of it. Looking right at the subject of his thoughts he asked "So Jason, tell us some stories about yourself. What kinds of childhood hijinks did you get into?"

Jason took a large gulp of his drink, wiped his lips, and smiled a huge smile. "Awesome stuff, that's what! I'd be out from sun-up 'till sundown every day, doing whatever I felt like doing. I was the envy of all other kids in the neighborhood. Hahaha ha!" Standing up suddenly, he politely excused himself and headed to the restroom, the eyes of the remaining people at the table following him the entire time.

Lucy spoke first, "Fisk, his laugh, it's-"

"Yeah, I know."

/

Inside the restroom, Jason was staring at himself in the mirror while doing something he almost never did; think about his life. You see, he was not exactly the contemplative type; with how his life had been, pausing to think would only depress him. Loneliness and despair does that to a person. "_Maybe I shouldn't have left like that, they're nice people. Maybe I shouldn't have come at all; they wouldn't have missed me or anything."_

Unfortunately for Jason, the eyes of his family had not been the only ones following him. As he stood there thinking about his predicament, a silent figure, clad in a white business suit and mask, silently crept up on our oblivious hero.

"_I shouldn't be in here! I really shouldn't have left the table! So what if he asked a question about me? I'll just tell him to-" _**THUNK!**

And with that precise strike to the back of his head, Jason hit the floor like a sack of potatoes. The figure dragged the larger body into a stall, locked it, and climbed over the door. It would not do for him to be discovered too soon. With this job done, he took a hidden case out from under the sinks, opened it, and began to quickly assemble the weapon inside. He didn't have much time.

/

"Hey Lucy," She looked up from where she was searching in her purse for some aspirin to look at her brother. "You remember anything from your investigative journalism classes?" When she replied yes he continued. "I need you to do something for me. Could you try to find out everything you can about the Black family tree?"

She responded instantly. "I could, but why can't you? You're the one who upset the poor guy. Plus you have all of those 'extra' sources of information at your disposal."

"I would, but I'm still busy with the reason I'm in Washington to begin with, remember? I know that Hite is involved in this somehow, I just don't know in what way."

Tommy and Lucy shared a look. They knew better than to ask questions or to get involved in Fisk's work in any way. It was an unspoken agreement between the three of them; if ever questioned, plausible deniability. Unfortunately for them, plausible deniability was about to take a back seat for the next several days.

Fisk was getting up to check on Jason when he saw someone walking towards him from the side. Turning, he recognized the person as Senator Zimmer, and went to meet him away from his table.

"Hello sir, fancy meeting you here. How are things?"

"As well as they could be, I suppose, considering what happened. Tell me, have you gotten anywhere with that little job I asked for help with? The rest of the committee is getting rather agitated." Here he leaned forward and whispered "And what about that name your cousin found, White?"

Fisk glanced around the room, and thought he saw someone leaving the restroom, before he answered, "We looked, but no one with that name lives in the D.C. area. It is probably an alias of some type. However, I do suspect that Mr. Hite is in- GET DOWN!"

BAMBAMBAM!

Three shots rang out as Fisk grabbed Zimmer and dived to the side, covering the Senator with his body. Checking him for injuries, Fisk immediately saw that one of the bullets had found its mark; Zimmer was bleeding to death from a ragged hole in his throat.

Fisk had to act fast. Dragging the senator back to his table, he quickly told Tommy to keep pressure on the wound and for Lucy to call an ambulance. Having taken care of that as best he could he turned and made a run to where he had seen the shooter escape into the kitchen. As soon as he went in though he had to duck to the side as the shooter fired at him. Drawing his own gun, Fisk blind fired over the counter he was behind.

Glancing quickly over the makeshift barrier, Fisk almost got his brains blown out. However, the quick survey of the environment gave Fisk the quick end to this shootout he needed. Taking careful aim, he let off one shot to the right of where his opponent was, hitting the gas tank for an oven.

The gas tank burst open, spewing flammable gasses at his enemy over a heated stove, igniting them and catching his target's right side on fire. Screaming in pain and terror, the assailant-turned-victim ran desperately for the back exit and safety, barely grabbing the extinguisher on the way out.

Fisk dashed after him, sliding under the still shooting flames and through the door. Outside, he saw his target heading into the construction site, and followed. The shooter turned and, seeing Fisk closing behind him, began working his way through and up the building under construction, desperate to escape the pursuing Black.

Jumping onto a nearby heavy lifting vehicle Fisk ran up the length of its crane, jumping off the end to land on the same level his target had managed to reach. Looking around he quickly ducked as a welding torch was thrown at him, before getting back up and continuing the chase. Their chase went through the entire building, his target continuously slipping away from Fisk at just the right moment, whether it was by twisting a hole in the construction or making leaps where Fisk had to go around. "_Whoever this guy is, he's got some skill. I'm better though."_

Eventually, Fisk's training and conditioning pulled through for him, and he was able to slowly herd his quarry to a ledge on the eighth level. Beyond this was a straight fall onto hard concrete.

As soon as the figure realized what had happened, he tried to find another way, but Fisk was already there, gun drawn and aimed squarely at the chest of the masked figure. The figure could only say one thing.

"Shit."

"Throw me your gun and put your hands behind your head!"

He complied, somehow keeping hold of the gun throughout the chase, though he seemed unable to move his right arm. A quick glance told Fisk everything he needed to know; the fire had destroyed the nerve endings in the arm. Amputation would have to occur…if he survived.

Keeping his eyes on his target, he picked up the weapon and continued. "Tell me; are you Mr. White, the man who killed Senator Almsway?"

The figure paused at the name, but still nodded in the affirmative.

Fisk noticed that the man seemed unusually calm for someone with their arm nearly burnt off and being held at gunpoint, but credited it to shock and continued his questioning. While Fisk thought this White slowly edged towards the drop.

"Why did you do it?"

White gave a pain-filled shrug, glanced around… and stepped backward.

Fisk shouted and ran to the ledge, but it was too late. The killer was dead, body broken on the ungiving concrete below. Hurrying down to ground level, Fisk rushed over to the burnt and broken form. The mask was cracked, and as he made his way closer, Fisk could begin to make out who it was. Once he recognized the face, all he could do was stare in numb shock.

"Jay?"

/

When Fisk finally made it back to the restaurant, an ambulance and several police had arrived at the scene. Slipping his way through the crowd and avoiding the police, he quickly found his group near the ambulance. It seemed Jason was getting a bloody head wound checked out.

As soon as they saw him, Lucy rushed to his side asking if he was okay while Jason looked over worriedly. Tommy seemed to be in his own little world at the moment, and not in his usual way. Fisk frowned and turned to Lucy. "What happened to the Senator? And what's wrong with Tommy?"

Jason averted his eyes while Lucy seemed to be having a hard time speaking. This was all the answer he needed.

"How?"

"He, he bled to death." Everyone turned to Tommy.

"He just kept bleeding, and trying to breath, and speak, and, and I was doing what you told me to do but it wasn't enough, and the ambulances weren't there, and he was bleeding, and dying! And **choking! And bleeding! And, and,"**

"Tommy!" The Rabbit looked away from his hands and at Fisk. "It was **not **your fault, understand? You did your best." Tommy just stared at Fisk for a moment, before going back to staring at his hands, in his mind still feeling the blood coating them, and the gurgled cries of the dying.

Fisk sighed. "Lucy?" She needed no other prompting and immediately went to her husband's side. Fisk talked to Jason. "So what happened to you?"

Jason looked ashamed. "Got ambushed in the restroom. Did you get him?" Fisk shook his head yes. "So who was it?"

Speaking so that all the other three could hear him, Fisk announced "The shooter was Jay Oralyn."

Silence reigned throughout the group, all thinking the same thing. Jason summed it up for all of them. "Damn it." It was going to be a long week.

/

A/N: So, who saw that coming, eh?


	6. Repercussions Fisk

Disclaimer: I don't own Better Days or its characters. Jay Naylor does.

Original Days

Chapter Six: Repercussions Fisk

**/**

The next day, the shooting of the senator was being discussed on every news channel in the country, and most of the radio news. The media hadn't drawn a connection between the deaths of Senators Zimmer and Almsway, but Ryan knew it was only a matter of time. But what he was truly afraid of was the possible political backlash against the company. His company, he thought to himself as he waited for his newest agent to join them for a debriefing; Fisk was already there.

As they waited for their cousin to show up, Fisk carefully examined his stepbrother out of the corner of his eye. Kindly put, the Cat looked awful, with dark rings under his eyes and a permanent dull glare on his face. It made Fisk that much more glad that he didn't take a managerial role in the company. Just then Jason arrived in his usual red jacket, and the meeting began.

Fisk started with the meeting with Zimmer in the office, the name White in the blood, and how they had quickly decided on a course of action. Ryan only interrupted once to ask if they were sure that's what it said. After that Jason took over the telling and recounted the entire visit to Hite, adding in his own observations that Hite had the most controlled body language that he had ever seen. Finally, they reached the events of the previous night.

"And there was nothing you could of done to keep him from jumping?" Ryan asked softly.

Fisk shook his head regretfully. "No. Like I said, he had made all the signs of cooperating. I just wish I had gotten him in the kitchen. Or that someone had gotten him in the restroom" he added, sending a pointed look Jason's way. Jason responded instantly.

"Hey, don't look at me like that. Anyone can get taken down with a lucky shot. What's your excuse for messing up, jerk!"

"Idiot."

"Bastard!"

"Moron."

"Asshole!"

"Enough!" Ryan yelled, silencing them instantly. He didn't have time for this."I don't have time for this. Both of you made a mistake, okay?" We need to stop griping about how things are and deal with it. So stop this pointless finger pointing!"

Fisk calmed down, looked around, and realized he had left his seat sometime during the heated exchange. He also became a bit concerned with how Jason was reacting. Outwardly he was fine, but Fisk noticed a slight quiver in the hands as he sat back down, as well as an aversion to looking them in the eye. Ryan didn't notice.

"Now, I have a very critical meeting to go to. With Senator Zimmer gone, I have to explain the situation with our other contact." At Jason's confused look, Fisk decided to explain. "The company always has two contacts in congress, a Democrat and a Republican. It helps us stay in-the-know with the plans and activities of the two parties. With Zimmer dead, we need to explain the situation to our other contact."

"Who's the other contact?" Jason asked, finally getting back to normal.

Ryan answered "Senator Netton. And before you say anything," he added, glancing between the two, "I know that he is on the same committee that Almsway and Zimmer were, but that is just a coincidence."

After saying this Ryan stood up from his seat and began heading for the door. "Now I really must get going. Fisk, I want you to go meet with Mr. Hite again. He deserves to know what happened to his assistant. Pay careful attention to his reaction, I want to know everything."

In the elevator to the exit, Fisk brought up a pressing concern. "Ryan, I would like to request the services of one of our councilors. After the events of last night, Tommy may need some talking to."

Ryan turned and gave him a look. "I was wondering why you brought him here today. Sure, I will have someone talk with him immediately; but, aren't you concerned for Lucy as well?"

"You don't need to worry about her; we Blacks are stronger than most."

"Yes, that is something I've noticed. Jason, I want you to stay here for now, check on Tommy every so often. Other than that, just stay out of trouble."

"Sure thing, little king!"

**/**

During the drive to his destination, Fisk pondered the mystery that was Jason. He just couldn't figure the guy out. He always seemed so confident, so sure of himself; but if that was true, why did he react so harshly to hearing someone was disappointed in him? Is his confidence an act? If so how much?

"_The real question,_" Fisk thought to himself as he made a turn "_is why does he get at me so much? I would never have said those insults to anyone else, so why is it so hard to hide how I feel from him?"_

These questions would have to wait until later, however, because just then he arrived at his destination. Stepping out of his car, he cast a quick glance at the car by his and stopped. Sitting right there was the most beautiful car that he had ever seen. A brand new Aston Martin, its main body was red with black doors and grill. Looking at the license plate, Fisk saw that it read "70WHITE, he surmised that meant that it belonged to William Hite, though he had no idea what 70 could mean.

"_Never took him as the sports car type." _Getting his mind back to the matter at hand, Fisk quickly walked the short distance to the entrance. Only a day later and he was back.

After a brief conversation with the security guards at the check-in station he was on the lift and on his way down. Something Fisk noticed on his way in was that there was an increase in security since yesterday. He briefly wondered if there had been a threat of some kind made, then dismissed that idea as silly. Anyway, it wasn't his concern, so he thought no more of it.

Getting off the elevator, he was directed to Hite's office, where Hite was apparently waiting for him. As soon as the conversation started, Fisk knew that something had changed from yesterday.

"Greetings, Mr. **Black**. I admit to not expecting to see you again so soon. However, the reason **is** clear to me: the death of Zimmer."

"You're correct, for the most part. I came because my superiors and I thought that you should know the identity of the person who did it; your assistant, Mr. Oralyn." Hite frowned.

"I **surmised** that that was the case. When he failed to arrive at work on time I grew suspicious, and now you have just confirmed it."

Hite stood up and walked to stand before the window, watching his assistants at work. After a moment of hesitation, Fisk joined him. When he did, Hite began speaking again. "However, now it does not **matter** that he was the killer Mr. White. Zimmer and Almsway are dead and out of the way, and just this morning I discovered and corrected what **kept** my reactor from functioning for extended periods of **time**. My dream is fulfilled and that is all that matters.

Fisk stared at him warily, not precisely liking what he was hearing. "So, you don't care that people have died," his thoughts turned to Tommy, "have suffered?"

Suddenly Hite burst into laughter, and through the window Fisk noticed all of the workers stop whatever they were doing and stare in unabashed shock at the sound. Fisk had a hard time not doing that as well. Whereas Hite's voice was like a well-oiled machine; smooth, crisp, and powerful, his laugh was closer to a rusted engine failing to start. He couldn't even imagine how many **years** of disuse it must have taken for his laugh to degenerate that much. It was disturbing to the Cat.

After a few more moments of torture, Hite finished, wiping away some blood that had leaked from his mouth, as if laughing had torn something in him. Clearing his throat, he explained, "It has been decades since I last laughed. I must thank you for providing me with an opportunity. To answer your question, no, I **do not** care at all. People die every minute, every second, and suffering is merely something to be **embraced**. Surely you learned that much during your time at 'Starnes & Dye, incorporated'?"

Fisk grimaced, but not in pain. "_That wasn't the same. Sure I killed people, destroyed peoples' lives, but only in defense of my country."_ Out loud he said "There's a difference. People I killed during my service were enemies; people who were dangers to both my country and our way of life. The senators never did anything to warrant death."

Hite stared at him for a moment, and then, "Come with me, I want to show you something" and left the office. Fisk followed, curious were this would lead. Going through the control room, Fisk and Mr. Hite went to the main corridor, but instead of using any of the marked doors as Fisk was expecting, they made their way to a maintenance access tunnel. Going first, Hite climbed in and started going up the ladder, pausing briefly to tell Fisk to close the hatch once inside.

After several minutes of slow climbing they exited onto a platform overlooking the core maintenance room. 50 ft. below them a dozen workers scurried about, checking gauges, pressing buttons, and numerous other activities that couldn't be identified from that distance. They seemed like normal paycheck earners, so Fisk was confused about why they were up there. Hite however, soon enlightened him.

"I have a question to ask you. Let **us** say that out of those twelve people, four hated the other eight, the reason not being important. Now imagine that it was the other way around, and the haters were in the majority, again the reason is not important. Now, **is **the hate okay since it is felt by the majority?"

Fisk didn't see the point of this, but he answered anyway. "I don't believe so. There are hundreds of examples of a majority-felt hate. None of them have ended well, for anyone."

"So it would not **matter **if they thought one way or another, hating someone is always the same?" When Fisk nodded in the affirmative, he grinned and asked, "Then why is killing someone not always the** same, **no matter what one thinks? Why does what one believes or feels change that?"

Fisk didn't give an answer, because he didn't have one. In all his years he had never encountered a problem like this before. "_Damn it, what do I look like, a theologian?"_

Seeing his mental opponent's weakness, Hite continued his assault. "You see, there really is no way for someone with your beliefs to answer these questions, so **I **will do it for you. The circumstances of killing are of no importance, only the overall effect. The loss of their abilities and experience is something to mourn of course, but since their deaths help achieve the greater good then it does not **matter.** The two senators are dead, and the only available course now is to use their deaths as best we can. Don't let any silly moral qualms get in the way of your goals, or else you commit a disservice to those dead."

As soon as they climbed out of the maintenance hatch back into the main corridor someone ran up with a cell phone, saying it was for Hite. Hite instantly took it and turned away.

Excusing himself, Fisk headed for the lift, thoughts heavy and conflicted. Right before he pressed the up button however, his own cell rang.

"_Strange, I'm not expecting any calls._" Fishing it out of his pocket, he slid his cellphone open and put it to his ear.

"Hello?"

**/**

A/N: I got nothing to say!


	7. Repercussions Ryan

Disclaimer: Jay Naylor owns Better Days, I own Original Days. If you can't tell the difference, you have no right reading this.

A/N: Just so that people know, this chapter, most of the last chapter, and the next chapter all occur at roughly the same time.

Original Days

Chapter Seven: Repercussions Ryan

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Ryan got off the elevator and quickly made his way to where he saw Tommy standing. Personally he didn't see anything special in the nerd, but Lucy loved him, and that was good enough in Ryan's mind.

Pulling out a pen and paper, Ryan called out "Tommy!" and started writing. Tommy, meanwhile, remained standing there watching the T.V. Joining him Ryan saw that it was a news broadcast covering the shooting. Grimacing at what must be going through the Rabbits mind he pulled him away from the depression-giver, opened Tommy's hand, and forced the paper he was writing on into it. This got Tommy's attention. What's this?"

"It's permission. I want you to take this to the receptionist. She'll direct you to someone to talk with you about what happened last night at the restaurant. Both Fisk and I know how painful it is to watch someone die and be unable to do anything about it. It is something we all go through eventually, and the sooner you deal with it the better."

Tommy looked down, fiddling with something in his pocket and looking extremely uncomfortable. "S-sure, if you think I should. I mean, I never thought it would be so, so, aweful." "No one does" Ryan replied. Shooting one last look at Ryan, Tommy started for the receptionist. Satisfied, Ryan nodded to Jason and headed for the exit. He had a meeting to get to after all.

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"How do you think the senator will take this news, Sir?" This was the question asked by Ryan's bodyguard while Ryan got out of his car. An albino Bat of medium height and weight, Angela Faunts was a veteran of the Gulf War and numerous peacekeeping missions in Africa, so her politeness and kindness always caught Ryan by surprise. They had first met at a hospital after their cars collided in the rain. In order to avoid any charges she accepted his job offer. One year later and she had proven herself a skilled and dedicated agent, even staying on when Ryan told her she was capable of leaving whenever she wanted. Snapping out of his thoughts of the past, he answered her.

"That will depend on several factors. How much he already knows, how much he thinks we are hiding from him, what specific alignment the planets are in…"

Both broke into soft laughter, and then continued onward. At the door to Netton's office both were run through a quick check to see what they were carrying, then let through to his office, where they found Netton, an old Terrier, sitting comfortably with his own pair of bodyguards. Both Ryan and Angela decided to remain standing, not that they were offered a chair.

"Hello, Mr. Tobs. I have been waiting on you for a good while. I hope this won't become a habit." Netton began, ignoring Angela as usual. "Don't worry Sir, it won't." replied Ryan, hiding his annoyance at the veiled insult. He had more important things to do than defend his pride. The future of the whole company depended on staying on good terms with the senator; although if those guards kept looking at Angela like that he might change his mind.

"So I hear that your people were somehow involved in the shooting of my colleague Zimmer last night. Is this true?" "Yes it is, Sir, but there is more to it than that." Ryan stopped to clear his throat. "Zimmers death was caused by the same man who attacked and killed Senator Almsway last week."

Netton exchanged glances with one of his bodyguards, who immediately stood and performed a room check. Once he was done and reseated, Netton motioned for Ryan to continue his story. "Immediately after the shooting one of my agents cornered the killer. Shortly afterwards however, he jumped to his death."

For a minute the senator looked at Ryan with an expression that Angela could easily identify; disappointment. Before Netton could verbalize it however, Ryan quickly added "However the agent did identify who the attacker was and his motive." Now he was looking interested. "Well, don't keep me waiting. Who was it?" Even Netton's security guards leaned in slightly to hear well.

Ryan quickly obliged. "His name was Jay Oralyn, though he used the alias Mr. White for the attacks. He was the personal assistant of a Mr. William Hite, the man whose project you are overseeing. Based on his choice of victims, we believe that he was killing in order to insure that the project reaches completion without opposition."

"So your saying that if your agent had not stopped him then, I would have been next to be targeted?" Ryan nodded in the affirmative, and Netton smirked. "Well then, it was very lucky that your man was there at the right time, wasn't it?" Ryan nodded again. "In fact, some might say impossibly lucky."

Ryan shared a worried look with Angela, and then spoke. "Some might say that. What are you saying though?" Netton's smirk turned into a frown. "I'm saying that I don't think it was a coincidence that Zimmer, Mr. White, and your agent were all at the same place at the same time like that."

Angela stood up in outrage at what she was hearing. "Do you know exactly what you're insinuating, Senator?" She demanded, putting as disrespect into the title as she could. Both of Netton's bodyguards had stood up as well, with hands reaching for their firearms. Before anything more could happen however, Ryan grabbed her arm and slowly shook his head, pulling her back down to her seat. After a moment, the rest sat back down as well.

Netton looked unworried by the incident, and actually found it amusing. "My word, Mr. Tobs, surely you can keep better control of your agents than that. And as for your question, little girl," he spoke, turning to look Angela straight in the eye "I know exactly what I am insinuating. I think that these murders were committed as part as a plan to assume more power and control in the government. With the very public failure of standard security measures, government officials at all levels will be seeking alternatives, which you would be able to provide with your recently enlarged 'work force'. Too bad for you that I'm onto you."

Both Ryan and Angela had the same thought run through their minds at the same time: "_This guy is as looney as a toon._" Ryan kept his cool on the outside though. "You have no proof of our existence though. It was Zimmer who handled any physical evidence of us, not you; you're just blowing smoke with this threat of yours."

"Oh is that so?" Netton's smile returned full-force, causing Angela to think "_This is giving me a bad feeling_." Then Netton dropped the bombshell. "Let's see if the President thinks that there is no evidence after I play this **taped **conversation to him later today. I have a meeting with him for lunch today, did you know that?"

Ryan couldn't keep the panic from reaching his voice anymore. "To-today?"

"Yes, I have a meeting with him at lunch. And as soon as I explain the situation to him, you'll be regulated out of existence by the time I am done. Don't feel too bad though, you won't be the only people going down the drain today. You'll have Hite and his lackeys there to keep you company." Ryan and Angela both sat there with confused expression, but only Angela noticed a bodyguard standing by the door start in shock, then quietly edge his phone out of his pocket. "_That can't be good_."

While this took place Ryan asked what he meant. "What does he have to do with anything? Last I heard his project was completely legal."

"Legality has nothing to do with it. This morning I was sent for by the President's aid to meet with him. According to my contacts he intends to give me an executive order pertaining to Hite's little science project. He wants it closed down, and for all funds to be funneled into other projects. In three hours this nation will have one less rogue agency, and one less waste of government resources. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a fateful meeting to get ready for." Saying this, Senator Netton quickly ordered his men to 'escort' the pair out of the building.

Once outside, Angela nearly shouted, "What are we going to do now?" "I'm working on it!" Ryan whispered back, whipping out his cell-phone and starting to dial. "We have to warn everyone, tell them to go to ground **immediately**." Angela merely watched in silence. Hearing it pick up on the other side, Ryan started talking. "This is your director, Ryan Tobs. I have remotely accessed the company speaker system, and am here by issuing Order 27. Senator Netton has betrayed us. We have two hours to close up shop and disappear, so get to work! That is all; good luck, and Godspeed." Finished, he motioned Angela onwards to the car.

"Sir, this may not be the best time to ask, but what is Order 27? I've never heard it issued before."

Staring at Angela's reflection in the rear-view mirror, Ryan ordered her to drive, and then answered her. "That is because this is the first time any director has ever used it. It is also one of two orders that a director never wants to say. It means that the company has been uncovered and that we must disappear, maybe permanently. No missions, no information-gathering, nothing; complete and total ending of operations."

"What about family Sir, and friends? What happens to them?" He looked at her with a sad, no, crushed face and said, "That depends on whether we manage to transfer or destroy all personnel records in time. Worst case scenario, you never see any of them again."

Suddenly Ryan's phone rang, startling them out of their thoughts. Flipping it open, Ryan put it on speaker-phone on a whim, and asked "Hello, who is it?"

"It's Jason, I heard your broadcast. You need to know that things are about to get a hell of a lot worse."

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A/N: Gasp, oh no! Whatever shall our heroes do? Who was the bodyguard calling? What have Jason and the rest of the company been doing while all of this went on? And the biggest question of all, though not brought up in this chapter, how is Hite connected to the company? Find out next time in "Original Days"!


	8. Repercussions Jason

Disclaimer: Jay Naylor owns Better Days. I own Jason Black, William Hite, Angela Faunts, and Erik Faunts.

Original Days

Chapter Eight: Repercussions Jason

Note: Underlined words signify that the speaker is speaking Arabic

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"_Damn, Ryan has a hot bodyguard_." Jason thought to himself has he watched Ryan leave for his meeting with Netton. "_I wouldn't mind her guarding __**my **__body sometime._" Giggling at this thought, he turned away from his departing superior and headed for the receptionist. _"Might as well get some 'reading' done" _he thought to himself.

Ever since he was a little boy, Jason had a unique talent, one that had become very useful in his life path. He was capable of "reading" peoples movements, from how they opened a door to the tiniest twitch of an eye or curl of a finger. He could tell the general mood someone was in, their preferred method of fighting, and most useful, with enough exposure to them he could even predict someone's next move. The downside was that sometimes he would become so engrossed by the movements of the person he was watching he would begin to unconsciously mimic them. Very annoying in the middle of a life-in-death situation, as he had found out the painful way.

Taking a seat several feet away from the receptionist, he slowly tilted his head just enough to see her movements; the way she moved her hand while writing; the random adjustment of her posture; how she tilted her head while talking to someone on the phone; all of this he gained from her before looking away. Not because he felt bad for spying on her, but because of something he read in her after the phone call; a great sadness. "_She must of gotten some bad news_" he thought to himself sadly, turning back to see her standing up and motioning him over.

Curious, he got up and walked over to her desk. "Could you take this to the archives for me? I would, but something else has come up and I need to clear my head for a moment." Jason thought it would be best to not ask about the problem, and took the folder she was holding out for him. Looking at it, he saw it was some sort of personnel file. "So where are the archives anyway?" "Take the stairs down to the basement and turn down the left hallway. They'll be in the first door you see." Thanking her for the directions, he turned around and walked off.

Heading down to his destination, Jason snuck a quick glance through the folder in his hands; just as he expected, it was a personal file; an old one if the people listed in it were any indication. Just as he reached the hallway he needed to turn down he came across one name that he hadn't been expecting. It was of a tall, well-toned Cat with mostly black fur except for on the hands and the tips of his ears, which had white fur. "_So that's what James Black looked like. Wow, take away the patch of white around my left eye and you wouldn't be able to tell us apart._"

Jason was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts when a loud crash sounded from ahead of him, the archives room. Rushing in, he saw that a tall pile of boxes had fallen down, covering a good amount of the floor in folders and loose pieces of paper. Suddenly, Jason thought he could hear something coming from under the pile of boxes. "_Is there someone under there?_" He carefully removed two boxes from the pile, and the suddenly the muffled voice became clear.

"Get these $#& boxes off of me!"

Startled by the yell, Jason quickly got the rest off of the person. When the last box was removed he stood back to give the man some breathing space. The guy was an old Bat, Jason guessed him to be in his late fifties, with shaggy dark brown fur going grey. Popping his back, the old man gave his rescuer one glance, and then with a quickly grumbled thanks started putting the debris into order. Caught off guard by being brushed aside so quickly, Jason simply held out his folder to the apparent caretaker and said "I was asked to return this to the archives."

Turning around, the man took it, and muttered, "Took you long enough to get here. Is your sister an agent as well?" Saying Jason was confused by this question was like saying fish liked water. He expressed this confusion with his normal tact.

"What the hell are you talking about old man? I don't have a sister." Now the other person looked irritated **and **confused. Flipping through the folder he held, he asked, "What are your name and the name of your father, punk?"

"My name is Jason Black, and my father was Nathan Black."

"Oh, I thought you were the son of someone else. You wouldn't happen to know a Fisk Black, would you?" "Yeah, he's my cousin. Who are you?"

He set the folder in what Jason assumed was its correct place then answered while getting back to work. "I'm Erik Faunts, an old friend of the family, and currently the only guy they have taking care of the archives, so if you know what's good for you you'll start helping me with cleaning this stuff up." He didn't have anything better to do, so he said "Sure thing old man."

While working, Jason asked another question. "So, how do you know Fisk, and why were you expecting him?"

Glancing at his helper, Erik answered, "I wasn't really expecting him, more like hoping that he would show up some day. To answer your other question, well, I knew his father since before he brought in the Hite boy back in 1969. Nice guy." Jason froze at what Erik said; dropping the box he was holding onto his foot. Not even noticing the strange look this earned him, he asked, "Did you just say Hite, as in William Hite?"

Settling down onto a stool, the aged record keeper responded "Yeah I did. Damn shame, he turned out to be. I don't know why James did it." Glancing up at Jason, who had yet to remove the obviously heavy box from atop his foot, he continued. "I'm guessing you know of him? Well if that is the case, how about you put that box up and take a break. I'll tell you all about him. It began while James Black was on a mission in Egypt…"

Flashback, begin

Cairo, Egypt

James Black wondered the streets of Cairo, taking in the sights as any good tourist would do. At least, this is what he wanted people to think he was doing. In reality he was making a mental map of the area, memorizing every street corner, back alley, and side passage that may have an impact on his mission. What was his mission you ask? For several weeks he had been on the trail of a stolen British weapons shipment, composed of heavy machineguns and grenades. He had eventually discovered that they had been taken by communist supporters in Egypt, and were currently getting prepped for transport to Libya. He had already located where they were being kept, and was merely waiting for nightfall to make his move.

A loud commotion coming from a nearby alleyway tore him from his thoughts. Rushing to the entrance, James was shocked at what he saw. "_Is that a kid?_" At the opposite side of the alleyway was a young Cougar boy, no older than eight, being slowly surrounded by five Jackals, all at least twice as old as him. Another one lay on the ground, unmoving. Curious, James slid into the shadows provided by the walls and watched.

The thugs made the first move, two rushing him from the front while another circled around behind. The boy leapt at the two in front of him and, too fast for either of them to block, delivered swift strikes to their jugulars with his claws. Landing, he crouched down to avoid a swipe at his head from the thug behind him, and then pivoted around and swept the attacker's legs out from under him, dropping him onto his back. The boy quickly followed this up with an axe kick to the man's throat. "_Ouch, that guy isn't getting back up_."

Seeing the state of their comrades, the last two thugs' unsheathed knives from their belts and charged him, yelling curses in Arabic that made even James' face blush. The moment before the knives would have punctured his face however; the boy grabbed their outstretched hands, dropped to his back, and forcefully pressed a foot against the elbow of each captured arm. James distinctly heard the sound of snapping bones, and suddenly they were on the ground, clutching their broken arms and screaming in agony.

James was stunned, to say the least. He had just watched an eight year old boy practically **demolish** five older opponents, not counting the one that was taken down before he arrived. "_Why were they attacking him though?_"

He received his answer a moment later when a female kitten, roughly the same age as the boy, emerged from behind a nearby dumpster and ran to the boy's side. "Asim!" He turned to her. "Are you alright, Aiko? None of them hurt you, right?" After she shook her head no he continued. "That's good. What are you doing out of the embassy in daylight? Don't you know how dangerous that is for an ambassador's daughter?"

"_That explains a lot of questions. She is an ambassador's kid_" James thought as he watched the two interact. "_It brings up several more though, like why is she friends with a street urchin?_" While he thought this Aiko seemed to be trying to find the best way to say something. Coming to a decision, she began talking. "Asim, we're friends, right?" He looked at her like she was crazy. "Of course we are, ever since we met when you snuck away from the embassy to explore the city. Remember how I chased away that stray dog chasing you?"

She giggled at the memory. "Yeah, and how I had to teach you how to read? You didn't even have a name when we met!" After saying this she got a sad look on her face, the kind you have when you have some bad news to give someone. "Some horrible news came in today, and I had to tell you as soon as possible. My grandfather passed away, and my father has to go back to Japan to run the family business."

The alley got so quiet James swore that he heard a pin drop. "You're, leaving?" He looked away from her, at the thugs that were trying to crawl away now. "How long until you leave?"

She shifted from one foot to the other, looking every bit her age. It wasn't until he yelled at her to tell him that she stuttered a quick "Tomorrow", and then took off with tears in her eyes. The boy, Asim did nothing to stop her. Instead, he picked up one of the fallen knives from the ground, looked to where James was currently watching from, and stiffly walked away. James himself finally started on his way again, thinking to himself as he went to prepare for the operation that night, "_Well, that was interesting. I wonder what will become of that Cougar boy._"

Flashback end

The elder man was interrupted from his story by a loud shout of surprise from Jason, who had continued to help organize the archives. "Damn it punk, I was just getting to the good part! What the hell has gotten into you!?" Jason lifted up a mask from the box he had been looking through. It was made of a white ceramic, with an upside down triangle beneath each eye. His gaze shifted to the old man accusingly, asking, with a good bit of force, "Where did you get this?"

Mr. Faunts grabbed it from him, turning it over and over in his hands, as if it was a precious heirloom. "Be careful with this, punk. This was Will's when he worked here. He always wore it when on assignment; he gave it to me when he left."

They suddenly heard the building's comm. system come to life, and a moment later Ryan began his announcement. Jason and Mr. Faunts shared a look; damn.

As soon as it was over the older of the two sprang into action, grabbing as many of the surrounding folders as he could and scurrying further into the archives. He called over his shoulder "Quick punk, grab what you can and follow me to the furnace", but instead Jason grabbed the mask and made his way to the exit. Mr. Faunts saw this and yelled "Kid, what are you doing? We need to get rid of this stuff, fast!"

Jason stopped at the door. "No, this is way worse than you know. I've seen another mask like this; it was worn by that guy who was killing senators. He worked for Mr. Hite, the guy who made **this**mask. Don't you see? Hite was involved in the murders of Almsway and Zimmer, which means that Senator Netton is still in danger! If there is going to be an attempt on his life, now is the time!"

In the stairwell, Jason pulled out his cellphone and dialed Ryan; he needed to be told immediately. Hearing it pick up at the other end, he listened to Ryan ask who it was, and then said "It's Jason, I heard your broadcast. You need to know that things are about to get a hell of a lot worse."

Angela gave a humorless chuckle, and then asked, "How exactly can it get worse, is the city about to blow up?"

"Mr. Hite was involved with the recent killings, he used to be a member of the company, and if my suspicions are correct then Netton is probably driving right into a trap as we speak. How the hell is that for worse?!"

Ryan and Angela looked at each other in shock, then Angela quickly turned to catch up with Netton's car while Ryan swore at whatever higher being decided it would be funny to have him get a promotion only to have to deal with all of this. Regaining his composure after a minute of ranting, he began issuing instructions. "Okay, if everything you have said is true, then Fisk is in extreme danger. I want you to call and tell him about the situation, and then catch up with and protect the Senator. I am texting you his destination and current path now. We will try to meet with you as soon as possible, understood?" "Yes sir; Jason Black out." Before he could hang up though Angela said one last thing to them. "I just remembered. During the meeting I noticed one of Netton's guards calling someone. If he worked for Hite then he probably knows about what is going on." Jason said "Thanks sweety", and then hung up. Ryan's last thought as he hung up was "_Man, things are bad if he is being respectful._"

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A/N: So, what do you all think? A little bit of action, a little bit of backstory, some new characters, what more could you ask for? Well anyway, review, or I'll sic grownup Asim on you!


	9. The Fast and Furious

Disclaimer: Jay Naylor owns Better Days. I own Jason Black, William Hite, Angela Faunts, and Erik Faunts.

Original Days

Chapter Nine: The Fast and Furious

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As soon as they reached the main corridor someone ran up with a cell phone, saying it was for Hite. Excusing himself, Fisk headed for the lift, thoughts heavy and conflicted. As he waited for the lift to arrive, Fisk noticed that it had suddenly become much busier around him. Finally the lift arrived; right before he pressed the up button however, his own cell rang. "_Strange, I'm not expecting any calls._" Fishing it out of his pocket, he slid it open and put it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"It's Jason, where are you?"

"I'm in Hite's lab, on my way out; what's wrong?" Fisk replied, confused and alarmed by the way his cousin was acting.

"Some bad craps going down, man! That Netton guy Ryan went to see is on his way to the president right now to rat us out, and Hite is somehow involved with Mr. White!" Fisk waited until he thought Jason was done before he spoke, mind flashing back to the license plate and mentally kicking himself. "I think he **is **White, Jason. When I spoke with him earlier he did a good job hiding it, but I know he is thrilled that those two are dead. Where are you right now?"

I'm getting something from my quarters, then I'm gonna try to 'persuade' Netton not to go through with it. What about you?"

Fisk got out of the lift and began walking to the control room. "I'm going to confront Hite. You do whatever you can to stop Netton from getting killed. And before you ask," Fisk said, keeping Jason from speaking, "you may not kill Netton to keep him from betraying us, am I understood?"

No sooner had Fisk finished saying this then a mechanical voice responded from the control room door in front of him **"Understood, yet so, so unwise"** and a white-gloved fist impacted his chest, sending him flying a good three feet back. Landing on his back, Fisk could do nothing except grab his chest in pain as the white clad figure crushed Fisk's dropped phone under one white boot. It didn't even seem like the figure exerted any effort to do it either.

Fisk quickly got up, taking a good look at his opponent. A snow-white business suit covered his broad shoulders and perfectly toned physique. On his face was a white ceramic mask oddly reminiscent of an Egyptian burial mask. The eyeholes were shaped like almonds, and there were four vertical slits were the mouth would be. White gloves and boots completed the image. It was like looking at an ivory statue, and was distressingly hard to make out in the white walls of the hallway. Fisk wasn't intimidated.

"Mr. Hite, just the murderer I was looking for."

"**Good to know I made it easier for you. Although, I find myself becoming rather fond of that name your idiot cousin came up with. Yes, Mr. White will do just fine for now on." **

"If you insist, White." In a flash Fisk whipped his gun out and took aim at White's head. Before he could pull the trigger though, White sprang into motion, grabbing the gun holding hand and pulling. Startled, Fisk couldn't stop the sudden barrage of strikes to his body. White struck him from every angle, practically pummeling him back to the lift. As suddenly as they began however, the strikes stopped, but White wasn't done yet. Before Fisk could do so much as recover his breath, White grabbed hold of his right and left shoulder and swept his legs out from under him. Continuing his movement, White spun in a complete circle and threw Fisk into the wall of the lift, leaving a person-sized dent in it. Fisk, naturally, only had one thing to say.

"GAUUGH!"

With his opponent slumped to the floor of the lift, White nodded in satisfaction before stepping in himself and pressing the up button. While it went up, White turned his head to where Fisk was slowly struggling to his feet. He got a certain amount of satisfaction from listening to the groans of pain.

"**Tell me Black, why do you want to stop me? If Netton lives, than the company will be destroyed, and everything your father did will become worthless.**"

Finally back on his feet, Fisk stood as straight as he could and glared at White. "Don't you talk about my father like you knew him!" White seemed disappointed, but Fisk couldn't tell with that mask. "**Changing the topic like that is highly rude Black. It has, however, given me my answer; you do not know why you want to. It was merely the first impulse you had.**" Fisk kept the glare, but now his eyes contained a hint of doubt in them. "**Just like every other mindless herd-animal in this city, you are under the thrall of your beliefs. Keeping in line with everything you have been taught. Letting them blindly lead you along, sure that you will have time later to think of a rationalization. Your father would be so disappointed.**"

"Raargh!" With a scream of rage, Fisk through himself at his adversary, managing to get in a single elbow strike to White's chest before getting taken down once more.

The lift stopped moving, and as the door opened Fisk looked up from where he was laying and gasped in shock. Before him stood more than two dozen people in body armor and armed to the teeth. Most of them he recognized from the tour, and all were looking at him and White in confusion. One of them, someone Fisk recognized as the head of security for the lab, stepped forward. "Hey boss, do you want us to deal with him?"

"**No, that will not be necessary, Mr. Church. I have just finished introducing him to My truth. Besides, his future depends just as much on our success as our future does.**" This seemed like a good enough answer, as after it everyone got back to work loading weapons into three vans. The same speaker then informed White that the bikes had already headed out and started herding the target, and that the vans would be fully prepped in 30 seconds. White nodded, and then ordered him to take Fisk outside, as it didn't seem like he could move himself at the moment, and then to stay and guard the lab.

Church, a tall Husky, helped Fisk stumble out until they were outside, and then dropped him on the ground and watched as the trio of vans left. As soon as they were out of sight though he immediately bent down to help Fisk up. "Who are you and what are you doing?" Church explained while helping him to the parked vehicles. "My name's Derek Church and I'm helping you stop White. He hasn't brainwashed everyone who works for him with his speaking skills. Not yet anyway." They reached the cars, but before Fisk could get for his keys Church took a pair out and unlocked the door to White's. When Fisk just stood there stunned Church smirked and said, "Unless you **want **to save the day in a pink Volkswagen?"

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"Damn gun-wielding bikers from hell, why won't you all just **DIE!!!**"

This was the battle-yell uttered by one Jason Black as he gunned down another attacker. It was his third in as many minutes. "_Do all of these people work for Hite!?_" he thought to himself as he raced to catch up to Netton's armored car.

Mere moments after he had found Netton, they were suddenly attacked by eight motorcyclists armed with submachine guns and incendiary grenades. Almost immediately one of the escort cars was taken down, now a flaming wreck a mile behind them, and Jason and the other two cars quickly found themselves being herded away from their path, forcing them into a desperate attempt to last until help arrived.

Suddenly two of the assailants tossed grenades at him, and then peeled off from the attack to take him on. Dodging both blasts of fire, Jason yelled out "Ha ha, you missed me!" then ducked and weaved as a barrage of bullets came at him. Looking back up he yelled "What are you trying to do, kill me?" As they got nearer he quickly made a flicking motion with his wrists, and suddenly from each of his gauntlets an 8 inch blade sprang into place. Grinning, he waited until they were just passing him, and then thrust both arms out.

SLWEEP!!

Two mostly headless bodies later and Jason was able to catch his breath, before turning his attention back to the rest of the fight and nearly screaming in frustration. Sometime while he had been preoccupied with the two bikes, a trio of vans had joined the chase, as well as a dark green Mercedes."_Great, just what I needed, more people to shoot at me and…what a minute, that's Ryan's car!_"

Jason watched as Ryan suddenly stuck his upper body out of the sun roof and began firing at the remaining bikers with a G36 assault rifle. "_Ooh, a G36, I didn't know Ryan had such good taste._" Jason was startled out of his thoughts when his cell phone started ringing. Cursing, he quickly transferred it to his helmet's built-in phone. "Yeah, what is it?"

"This is Angela, we'll deal with the bikers, you deal with the vans."

He grinned; just what he had been hoping for. "Sure thing, Angel." Before she could retort he ended the call and put on the speed, quickly closing the gap between him and the closest van. Taking aim with his modified TEC-9 machine pistol, Jason fired off a short burst and ruptured the front and back right tires. He laughed as he watched it swerve out of control, and then cursed when it swerved out of control **in his direction**! "Crap!" Cutting the gas and shifting to the left, he watched as the van went through right where he had been and crashed into the side of a building.

Suddenly his attention was caught by the sound of blades whirling, and looked up to see a police helicopter following them. Knowing that more police vehicles were on their way, he decided to get a bit more aggressive in his tactics. Until his phone rang that is.

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"Oh God, oh God, oh God I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die! I'm gonna-" Netton's rant of despair was interrupted suddenly by the sound of his cell phone ringing. Scrambling to open it, he immediately began yelling for help into it. "Help me! I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die! I'm gonna-" His ranting was once more cut off, this time by the person on the other end of the line.

"Senator Netton, my name is Fisk Black. I have a plan to get you out of there alive, but you need to do **exactly **what I say if you want it to work."

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Ryan had just finished mopping up the last of the bikers when Angela tapped his leg. "Sir, your phone is ringing." Ejecting the spent clip and putting the gun beside him, Ryan quickly put the phone to his ear. "Who is it?"

"Ryan, it's me, Fisk. I have a plan."

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Jason ended the call and headed for his target. Fisk's plan was exactly the kind that he liked: simple, direct, and with a high probability of serious injury. Jason grinned; sounded like fun.

Coming up behind the van that Mr. White was **not** in, he prepared himself for the hailstorm of lead that was about to come his way. The mercs inside the van didn't disappoint, as all of a sudden the back doors flew open, and three QBZ-95Bs greeted him. As he was swerving and weaving to avoid the metal storm, Jason noted that there were four people in the van, three shooters and a driver. He also noted, due to the ease with which he was avoiding injury, that they were not professionals, and probably had only enough training to know how to shoot properly.

This didn't stop a stray bullet from tearing through his left shoulder though, nor did it keep three more from penetrating his motorcycles engine. Quickly losing speed and maneuverability, Jason made a snap decision and leaped from the now smoking vehicle…and landed in the hostile van, crashing into the trio of shooters and sending them to the floor! Jason quickly got back up and extended his blades, making short work of the three stunned hostiles. Ignoring the bleeding hole in his shoulder, Jason hurried to the front of the vehicle and held the driver at knife-point.

"Pull the vehicle over, **now**!" The driver gave Jason a look, glanced at the bodies of his comrades, looked back at the road, and said "Sure." Three seconds later the van collided with a street lamp and Jason was flying through the windshield, with only one thought going through his pain-racked mind.

"_I asked for that_."

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"Sir, another van has been taken down, and it appears that the younger Black has been as well."

Mr. White looked from where he was standing at the sliding door to look at the speaker. **"That is a most unfortunate loss."** Inside, White was pleased with events were unfolding. Now that the Reactor was operational, only a select few were necessary to keep around, and they were all back at the lab. No, he thought as he loaded the weapon with which he would end Nettons miserable existence, the more that Mr. Tobs and his eliminated, White thought, the better. Otherwise he would have to kill them himself.

What White really considered a loss was Jason. _**"A fool, yet so much potential to be like me. But at least Tobs is proving to be someone to watch. Now to finish this."**_ Opening the sliding door, White took careful aim and fired the modified Mossberg 590 shotgun at the door of the battered and bullet-ridden limo. Nothing seemed to happen, then dozens of pinpricks of heat and light erupted on the door, and it blew off to reveal a cowering senator.

This was it, the end. **"Any last words, senator?"**

"Yeah, goodbye." Suddenly the limo swerved and pressed itself to its side of the van with a clang. Another clang, and suddenly Ryan's car was pressed against the other side, trapping the van between them. Before White could assess the situation both cars sped up, dragging the van between them.

Then Whites driver screamed, and White raced to the front to see what was wrong; he wished he hadn't. Speeding straight for them was his armored Aston Martin, driven by none other than Fisk Black, with Church riding shotgun. White's phone rang.

10 seconds from collision. "Hello Mr. White."

8 seconds. It took White a moment to realize who was speaking.

6 seconds. **"Okay, now I am impressed."**

4 seconds. "Goodbye Mr. White."

1 second. Fisk jumped out and landed on the hood of Netton's car. Church jumped and landed on Ryan's car.

0 seconds. The van and the car collided head on, and a huge cacophony of screeching metal and breaking glass could be heard for several blocks all around. Angela drove on several yards then stopped, With Netton's driver following suit.

Rolling off of the hood, Fisk checked himself for injuries, and then went to check on Netton, who seemed to be having trouble standing straight. Before he could go two feet however six police vehicles quickly surrounded the group, with two more helicopters keeping watch from above. Fisk and the others from the company quickly raised their hands above their heads, clearly tired of being shot at. As the police cautiously approached, Fisk thought that this was really the end, until a voice spoke up from nearby.

"No need for all of this officers, these are merely members of my private security detail." Everyone shifted their gaze to Senator Netton, who seemed to have recovered from his shell-shock. He was addressing the officer who seemed to be in charge at the moment. Ryan could barely restrain his hope. Were they going to get out of this yet? The wrong movement might send the wrong message, so he kept still. After a moment of private conversation, the officer nodded in resignation and ordered his men to lower their weapons. Fisk let out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding, and then went to join Ryan and the others.

He reached them just as Angela started to drive off, saying that she was going to check on Jason. Ryan turned to him, though discreetly took glances at Church. "Well, we did it. The senator is safe; White is probably dead from the looks of that wreck, and with Mr. Church here every one of White's accomplices can be brought to justice."

"Yeah." Fisk looked back at the crushed form of the van, and suddenly realized that the car actually looked salvageable. With a lot of work it could probably be driven. Emergency personal were already checking the crash over and removing the bodies. "So Ryan, what happens now?"

"Well, I need to discuss the situation with Netton and hopefully come to some sort of agreement, and then I need to speak to my colleagues about this whole mess and see if it can benefit us in any way." He reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone. "But before all of that I think I need to rescind a little order I gave earlier.

Fisk nodded once, and then turned his gaze to where Angela drove; he should have gone with her.

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Angela found Jason sitting on the curb near where the van crashed, bandaging a bullet wound in his shoulder. There was also a bad gash running down the right side of his face over the eye; he was lucky it wasn't hit itself. When she pulled over by him he looked up with an unreadable expression, which got her slightly worried, but then his face broke into a grin so large it looked like he had a Glasgow smile for a moment.

"So I'm guessing we won, right?"

"It wasn't a game to win, Jason." She walked over to him and helped him to his feet. "But yeah, we totally got the high score." Jason barked out a laugh, and Angela felt something moist hit her cheek. Knowing what it was she quickened her pace, and soon was helping him strap in. "Let's get you looked at, okay?" she said, closing the door and walking over to her side. Getting in she barely heard his whisper.

"Thanks for coming, Angel." Smiling softly she replied "Don't mention it."

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A/N: Dear lord this was a tough chapter to write! It is also the longest chapter yet. Is this the end of White? Is Netton going to spare the company? Will Lucy and Tommy be in the story again? Find out next time!


	10. History

Disclaimer: I don't own Better Days

Original days

Chapter Ten: History

A/N: Faithful readers, we are nearing the final stretch. Be warned, things are about to get heavy.

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Pain! That was all It could feel. Ever since the crash Its mind had been swamped by it, ravaged by it, CONSUMED BY IT!! Then It felt the hands, grabbing hands, pulling it from the wreck, putting it into something; A BODY BAG!! No, It was alive! It was-, suddenly someone bent down and whispered in it's hear "Don't worry sir, we'll get you out of here" and It calmed down, gathered itself. Mr. White smiled through the pain, Its pain. Soon they would feel it as well.

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"Ouch!"

"I'm done; you can stop being a big baby now." Angela said, putting the medical supplies back where they went. "I still can't believe you didn't want any anesthetic while I put the stitches in." Jason shrugged at the remark, then instantly regretted it as the motion sent a fresh wave of pain through his body. "What can I say; I don't react well to stuff like that, especially alcohol."

After getting Jason back to the company both Fisk and Angela helped him to the private infirmary, another addition by Ryan. Doctors tend to ask bothersome questions, after all. Once there Angela began to examine his injuries. Aside from the bullet wound and the gash down the right side of his face, Which Angela said would leave a nasty scar; there was also moderate blunt trauma to the chest and shoulders from when he hit the ground, as well as minor lacerations on his face and neck from the broken glass. Overall, he was in surprisingly good condition. Angela's skills as a combat medic were more than sufficient.

While Jason was being worked on he told Fisk everything that he had learned while in the archives, and understandably, Fisk was eager to go there himself. Suddenly Angela interrupted their conversations. "If you're going to the archives could you wait a second while I close up? I haven't seen my uncle in a while and-" "Wait a minute," Jason exclaimed, "the old man's your uncle?"

"Yeah, though he's been more like a father to me, ever since my parents died in a car crash." The way she said this was calm and nonchalant, yet both Fisk and Jason could see the sadness that lay in her eyes, so they decided to just drop it. A moment later and she was ready to go.

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"Uncle!" Angela called as they stepped into the crowded archives, Fisk looking around in interest and Jason absentmindedly, his thoughts more on what was to come.

"Angela!" Erik Faunts replied, emerging from somewhere in the back and heading their way. "And I see you brought the punk with you. That was great work out there defending the senator kid, good job. And this-" His gaze went to Fisk, and he immediately stopped talking, looking at Fisk like he was seeing a ghost. "Fisk Black?" Fisk nodded. "After my talk with Jason here, I didn't really think I would get to meet you. You look so much like your father."

Fisk looked down, unsure how to respond to that. So he asked the first question to come to mind. "Did you know him well?" "Indeed, he and I worked several missions together. He was a man I admired and respected." The tiniest hint of moisture appeared in Fisk's eyes. "What was he like?" Fisk asked, looking back up at Faunt with hopeful, almost desperate eyes. This was possibly his last chance to learn anything about his father; he wouldn't let it pass by.

Mr. Faunt motioned for them all to takes seats, as he took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, letting the nicotine and tobacco trick his mind into thinking everything would be fine. Finally he spoke. "The best words to use for James C. Black are that he was a good man. Yet at the same time they don't come close to describing him sufficiently. He was brave, reliable, kind normally yet able to just turn that off when he had a job to do. Above all else though, he believed in the potential of others, whether they were an ex-KGB agent coming to us for protection or a little boy in Egypt without a home." Now it was his turn to show a hint of moisture. "He was too good for this type of work. Too God-damn good."

"I just wish I knew for certain that he would be proud of me. Of the choices I have made, the things I have done." Hearing that the old Bat stood up and moved to a nearby desk, piled high with long-forgotten papers and folders. Fisk, Jason, and Angela all watched on with mounting curiosity as Mr. Faunt rummaged through the drawers, until finally, "Here it is." He then turned back around, and held out to Fisk a plain envelope, unopened and yellow with age. "This is from your father, Fisk. He entrusted it to me just in case anything ever happened to him. Take it."

With an imperceptibly shaking hand Fisk took the envelope, and for several seconds no one said anything as he slowly opened it. Inside were two objects; a letter, and a photo. Fisk gently set the photo facedown without looking at it; it would come later. He then unfolded the letter and began reading.

"_Dear Fisk, if you are reading this than I am dead, and you probably have the same job I did. There are so many things I wish I could talk with you about, and so many moments in life I wish I been there for you during. Learning to ride a bike; learning to read; your first day at school, bringing your first girlfriend over for dinner; your marriage. But even though I will miss all of that, and more, I want you to know that I will always be proud of who you have become. Look after your mother and sister for me, and make sure that William stays out of trouble, okay?_

_With Love, your father._

Fisk reread the letter several times, and then carefully refolded it and put it in his pocket. Picking up the photo, he flipped it over and looked at it. It was a picture of his father and mother at their wedding day, with them lovingly holding hands while looking at the camera together. Near the bottom were scrawled the words _"Wish I could be at yours"_ in his father's handwriting.

That was it; he couldn't hold the tears back anymore. After 10 years Fisk allowed himself to cry once again over not knowing his father. His mind went back to the first time the terribleness of not knowing his father had crashed down upon him, in front of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall. Only this time was so much worse it hurt, it hurt so much that he wished that he could rip his heart out, to stop feeling completely. But then he felt someone embrace him in a hug, and soft words of comfort entered his ear.

Eventually the flow of tears petered out, then stopped. Fisk dried his face with his sleeve, and looked up to the person who comforted him. "Thank you, Jason." All Jason said while going back to his own seat was "Don't mention it. Ever." After that Fisk quietly excused himself, saying that he needed to make a call. When he was gone Angela turned to Jason.

"Odd, you've never been that caring before." Jason looked hurt at the comment. "Well, I've never had family I liked before, so there!"

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Elizabeth had just finished drying herself off after her shower when the main phone began to ring. Quickly wrapping a towel around herself, she hurried over to the phone and picked it up. "Hello?"

"_Hey dear, it's me_." Elizabeth immediately perked up. "Fisk! I was beginning to worry about you. Will you be home soon?" Silence for a moment, then "_Yeah, pretty soon. I was just calling to say…I love you_."

"I love you too honey. Want me to go tell Janie that you love her?"

"_Sure. I'll see you soon. Good night_."

"Good night." And with that they both hung up. One went to read to their daughter, the other went to confront their worst fear.

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When Fisk rejoined the group, Jason and Angela were arguing over preferred caliber or something like that, while Mr. Faunt sat a bit apart, smoking his cigarette in silent thought. Jason looked up and noticed that Fisk was back. "Hey Fish, want to go get some dinner? We really never had a lunch after all."

"In a bit. First, there is one last thing I need to speak to Mr. Faunt about." Faunt was shaken out of his thoughts when Fisk spoke his name, so he looked Fisk straight in the eye with a piercing gaze and asked "What do you need, kid?"

Fisk matched the gaze with one of his own, and asked "What can you tell me about William Hite?" Immediately the other three stiffened at the mention of the recently deceased killer, each thinking different thoughts about him. Angela thought "_Traitorous scumbag_." Jason thought "_Madman…with a nice sense of fashion_." But the elder agent had quite different thoughts, as his mind went back to a memory, of a nine year old boy glaring at him with the most piercing gaze, desperately seeking validation of his existence.

After an uncomfortable moment of silence, in which the only thing to be heard was the slight rustle of papers as the air conditioning blew on them, Faunt spoke. "I assume that the punk here already told you everything that I told him?" Fisk nodded. "Good, I hate repeating myself. Well then as you know, your father was tracking a stolen shipment of weapons when he first encountered Hite, though at that time his name was Asim. Because the size of the weapon shipment was too large for him to steal it back on his own, once he found them he was ordered to destroy them, which he did. This also resulted in the foreseen destruction of the building they were housed in; unforeseen, however, was that there were some people living in the building."

"Hite." Jason stated, to which Faunt nodded. "James found this out when he was approached by the kid at his hotel room. Taking pity on the boy, as well as quietly impressed by the skills he had shown in fighting and tracking, James decided to take responsibility for the boy." The next day they were both on a plane back to the States."

"Wow, you'd expect his superiors to be upset with him over something like that." Angela said, drawing their attention to her. "I mean, Ryan is a nice guy and all, but he would never allow an agent to do anything like that." Her uncle scowled, and put out the remains of his cigarette with a stomp of his shoe. "Yeah, well, things were different back then. Also, once they found out how intelligent he was, they were climbing over themselves to make him a weapon."

"Oh come on." This time it was Jason who spoke out. "I know that you need to be pretty smart to be a nuclear physicist, but how smart could he possibly be?" "Punk, on the plane ride to the States, he managed to learn how to speak English fluently and reached a 6th grade reading level. Considering before that he had never even heard any English before, I'd say he was pretty damn smart."

Jason, apparently unable to think of an adequate comeback, asked him to continue. "So want happened then?"

"Well, being the principled man he was, James would have none of it; he even threatened to quit if they went with their plans. Afraid of losing their best agent, they struck a deal. James would take care of and watch over Hite for the rest of his childhood, but once Hite turned 16 would allow him to work for them if that was his choice. No one was completely happy with the compromise, but nobody ever really is. That's how you know it's a compromise."

"How did Hite feel about all of this?" Fisk asked, feeling proud of his father in whole new ways after what he had heard.

"I'm not sure if he even knew of the deal. I do know, however, what he thought of your dad. He hero-worshipped him, held him in the highest regard. James taught him everything it meant to be an American, our history, our culture; even basic stuff like how to swim."

"Hite didn't know how to swim? Ha ha ha!"

"Punk, he grew up in a desert country. Why would he know how to swim!?"

"Okay, good point. Continue."

"Well, in short, he looked up to James like a son does to a father. He was even becoming a pretty nice kid, always with a helping hand and a witty comment; everyone in the headquarters loved him. Until your father died anyway." "Fisk looked at him with a guarded expression. "Why, what happened to him when that happened?"

"When that happened," Faunt said, eyes taking on a far-off look, "everything changed."

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Flashback

It was raining, Erik Faunt noted as he stood there with the rest of the mourners. It would rain at every funeral he'd go to. As the preacher finished and the casket was lowered into the grave, mourners eventually started peeling away from the group, until there were only two people besides the diggers left. Eventually even they were finished filling in the hole and gone, leaving only a grieving ten year old boy and his new guardian.

"_Do the clouds grieve for him as well?"_ the agent thought as he watched the way the raindrops fell on the boy kneeling in front of the gravestone. "_Or is God giving us the chance to hide our tears?_"

He was snapped out of his thoughts when the child before him spoke. "Mr. Faunt, why did he have to die?" Erik sighed in resignation. He really didn't want to give this speech. "Listen Will, sometimes bad things happen, people die, and there is nothing we can do abou-" "YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO DO SOMETHING THOUGH!!" William screamed, shooting up and turning to face the other person there. "YOU ALL SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO DO SOMETHING! YOU WERE THEIR BOSSES, HE TRUSTED YOU WITH HIS LIFE, WHY DIDN'T YOU KNOW!? WHY DIDN'T YOU KNOW THAT HIS PARTNER WAS A TRAITOR?"

For the briefest of moments Erik was taken aback by the unbridled fury and despair in the boy's words, and then with a sick feeling in his heart knew that the boy was ruined. He held his head down in shame, speaking so softly that Hite could barely hear him over the sound of the falling rain. "You're right Will, we should have been more careful. We grew too confident in our security, and James paid the ultimate price for it." Hite seemed to calm down slightly after that, and resumed his kneeling position. "You didn't even capture the Communist bastard who did it. He is still out there, ruining someone else's life, keeping other children from ever knowing their fathers. That is all Communists are capable of doing, ruining things for other people." He looked back up at Erik with calm eyes, and for a moment Erik thought that he would be okay after all, until the next few words were spoken. "They must be exterminated, all of them. And anyone who helps them."

Standing up, William Hite stopped crying, and looked up at his guardian. Then he spoke four words that Erik Faunt knew in his gut would come back to haunt him. "Let me join you."

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"After that day the higher ups in our organization, besides cutting all ties with the official government, also took an increased role in Hite's life, something he relished. They trained him to put to use all of his substantial talent and ability. He went on his first mission at 14, and at 16 was capable of fighting three other agents to a stalemate. He never failed a mission, and at 18 even began taking college courses, with missions on weekends and between terms. He got a doctorate in Nuclear Physics in two-thirds the time it takes most people, cementing his unofficial place as smartest agent ever. The directors considered him the perfect agent, the older agents respected his ability, and the newer agents all thought of him as some kind of hero. Until **that **mission; his last mission."

Fisk picked his slack jaw off the floor and asked "Why, what was his last mission?" "Yeah," Jason added, "it must have been pretty bad for everyone to change their opinion of him."

Faunt looked each of them in the eye, silently judging if they were capable of handling the knowledge, and in his eyes they say enough pain and anguish for a hundred people. He kept all of it from reaching his voice however when he gave one word as his answer, the name of a city that had been forever etched into history.

"Chernobyl."

They sat there, unblinking, unthinking. How could they think, when their minds, their **souls**, were so weighted down by the sheer horror that they were experiencing. Chernobyl, the Ukrainian city which in the spring of 1986 suffered the worst nuclear power plant disaster in history. Four hundred times more fallout was released there than had been released by the nuclear bombing of Hiroshima. 600,000 people had been exposed to radiation; men, women, children, their lives had been ruined forever. The thought that anyone could not only think of doing something that horrifying, but actually **do **it, nearly broke them.

Mr. Faunt seemed to have been expecting this reaction, as a moment later he blew a thick cloud of cigarette smoke into each of their faces, shocking them back to normal. Jason was the first to speak. "You let, I mean, someone like that, and the respec-, I mean, you let a monster capable of that **live**?"

"Punk, it's not what it seems. We-" "For God's sake, why would you even **have **a mission like that to perform in the first place!? What was wrong with you people?" Angela and Fisk could only agree, and waited for the old Bat to explain. "It wasn't supposed to happen like that." He pleaded. "The mission was only to slow down Russian nuclear reactor development, not blow them up! He was only supposed to tamper with it, make it inoperable! Instead he rigged the safety systems to turn off when they weren't supposed to."

Seeing the overwhelming guilt hidden in his face, they stopped to think about how long he must have kept it inside, unable to share it with anyone, and it was this that made them stop blaming him. Fisk had another question to ask though. "What happened once he got back to the States? I can't imagine that he got a warm welcome."

"It was just as you said, Fisk. Many of the less experienced agents quit, unable to handle that their idol would do something like that. The older agents refused to work with him, saying they didn't trust him to not view their deaths as 'acceptable losses'. Before things got too out of hand the directors 'politely' asked him to leave, which he did. And, well, that's that. He finished his degree, met a nice girl, and started his experiments. He's dead now, so none of it matters anymore." This got nods of agreement from everybody. Soon after that Jason once again suggested going to eat, to which Fisk said sure, seeing that it was about 7 o'clock by now and about that time. Halfway to the door though, his cell phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

"Fisk! Thank God you answered!" It was Tommy. "Tommy, what's wrong, what's happened?"

"It's Lucy, she's-" suddenly a piercing screech filled the air, and Tommy's voice turned into static. "What is that?!" Jason yelled over the screech, covering his ears and staggering to Fisk's side. Fisk was currently occupied with desperately trying to get his phone working again, so Jason turned to Angela. "It's our automated network defense system; it means that someone is trying to hack into our network! Fisk, your phone was hit by a weak EMP blast, sent out not take out all nearby portable electronic devises; it's not going to work for several hours." Giving up with the phone, Fisk yelled "Let's get topside, now!"

It was not long after they had reached the main floor when suddenly the screeching stopped, and everything except the red emergency lights went off. By this point many of the people around them seemed to be on the verge of getting the hell out of there, and Jason didn't blame them. "This means that the firewalls were unable to keep the intruder at bay." Angela explained, scanning the area for Ryan. Spotting him near the conference room with Church, she began making her way to him, the other two following close behind. As they walked she continued her explanation.

"As a last resort, the defense system cuts off all power to the building's mainframe. Can't hack into an inert piece of metal, right?" Before they could respond, and right as they reached Ryan, all of the TVs and computers switched back on, startling many of the confused company people. On every screen in the building a figure appeared, the figure of an unnaturally white-furred Cougar in a ripped and bloody white business suit, cracked white mask still in place. **"Greetings, people of the company."** Fisk and Ryan shared a look of alarm, while Jason proceeded to make every rude gesture he knew of to the screen closest to him. It was White.

"**I am truly disappointed in the security to your network; it was pitifully easy to get into." **He paused for a moment, looking off to the side, and then continued. **"I truly wish that my renewed contact with the company could be conducted under more mutually pleasant circumstances, but it is of no importance. What are important; however, are the events that transpired six hours ago, when several agents, including one of your directors, prevented me from eliminating Senator Netton. I wonder, did any of you realize that he was going to ruin all of us? That Ryan Tobs and his cohorts were actually fighting so that Netton would be able to destroy you? Ignore the fact that he changed his mind after you saved him; you had no way of knowing he would do that. From this and the general lack of skill and willpower in the agents I have encoutered, I conclude that none of you are capable of doing what needs to be done for the good of the country anymore. Very disappointing; especially you, Fisk Black."**

Fisk glared at the screen he was looking at, but it had no affect on the image, and White continued. **"Of course, I am still capable of killing Netton, as well as every other pathetic excuse for a person in the city. I mean, because of the surgery I was in after the crash, I was away from my little reactor so long; who know what might happen now?"** Then he smirked at them all through the screens. **"Other than the creation of a rather significant crater, of course."** Now people were really beginning to panic, with several rushing for the doors. The panicked voices rose so loud that Jason resorted to firing his gun to get their attention; just in time for White to start talking again. **"Of course, Fisk Black is welcome to come over and try to stop me. In fact I happen to have a highly enticing reason for him to come, and her name begins with L."** With that White stepped aside, and behind him, gagged and bound to a chair, was Lucy.

The room seemed to get several degrees colder, and everyone who knew Fisk began to feel very sorry for White. After a moment White stepped back into frame. **"You have one hour, Black."** And then he cut the feed. Everyone in the room turned to look to where Fisk had been standing, only to find him already heading for the door. Immediately three more people joined him; without looking he gave orders. "Jason, you fight with me; Angela, **someone** will need your medic skills afterwards; Church, you will tell me about everything that **wasn't **on the tour. Now let's move out."

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A/N: Please don't hate me too much for including Chernobyl. In all honesty I really do believe that foul play of some kind was involved; no way was an event that catastrophic purely an accident. Next chapter will be similar to this one, yet also different.


	11. His Story

Disclaimer: I don't own Better Days

Original days

Chapter Eleven: His Story

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"**You have one hour, Black."** After saying this White cut the connection, leaving the people of the company to their own devices. White sat there in silence, meditating on what he had planned, until a muffled gasp sounded from behind him. Turning around, he found one of his less competent guards fondling Lucy's chest. **"What are you doing?"** White asked, drawing the guard's attention to him. Backing away from the bound woman the guard said "I'm sorry sir, did you want her?" White said nothing, but started advancing on the two. **"Do I want her, the sister of the person responsible for nearly killing me? That is a very interesting question."** When he was standing right beside the guard White grabbed his head with both hands and slammed it with bonebreaking force against a nearby console. A cracking sound was heard, and suddenly the guard was screaming and clutching his shattered nose.

"**No I do not want her! Now get out of here before I decide to discover how many broken bones a body can endure before expiring!" **The guard scrambled for the exit, leaving only Lucy and Mr. White in the control room. White turned to her and, motioning to the door, said **"Nonconsensual acts of a sexual leaning are disgusting, do you agree?" **The fear visible in Lucy's eyes didn't diminish, but she did start to breath more regularly. Nodding his head in satisfaction, White moved towards her and flicked his right wrist; suddenly a knife appeared in his hand. Lucy started struggling when she saw it, until a sharp blow to the head knocked her senseless.

When she regained her senses White had already started cutting her…restraints? And removed her gag? Unable to stop herself she asked "What are you doing?" and then flinched when he snapped his head around to look at her while still cutting. After staring at her for a moment he answered. **"I am taking you with me to the employee kitchen and do not wish to drag a chair around. Is that a sufficient answer to your query?" **Taking her silence as a yes, he finished the last cord, pocketed the knife, and dragged her out of the chair by her hair. Gasping in pain, she nevertheless kept herself from struggling.

The employee kitchen was situated two doors from the lift on the right. Inside was a stainless steel table with enough room for six people at a time; there were also several coffee machines along the wall to the right of the door, cupboards above them, and a refrigerator in the far right corner. It was used mainly by lab workers either arriving early or working late, so the coffee machines were almost always on and busy.

Upon entering White promptly threw Lucy into a chair and went to the nearest machine. Righting herself on the chair, Lucy stared at her captor in bewilderment. The cold-blooded, murderous, vicious Mr. White…was fixing a cup of joe? Her eyes flicked to the thrown open door, and then back to White, who seemed busy looking for a clean cup. As quietly as possible Lucy slid out of her seat, and began edging her way to the exit. Four feet, three feet, two feet; if she could just get out of the room, she thought, she could hide somewhere until Fisk arrived and started shooting people.

Finally she reached the door, and was about to escape when suddenly "I knew your father." This stopped her dead in her tracks, as she slowly turned to look at White; he was simply standing there by the table with two mugs of coffee in hand, mask set aside for now. She had never realized before now how mesmerizingly blue his eyes were. His voice snapped her back to reality. "If you would like, we could sit here and have a civil discussion about him until your brother arrives." When she stayed where she was he added "Or I could use my knife to pin you to the table until your brother arrives. Either way is fine for me." That got her back in her seat.

For a while neither spoke, with only two things breaking the silence; the occasional sip of coffee from White, and a mysterious dripping noise. Neither of these noises helped to distract Lucy from her mounting curiosity about what White had said, nor did the danger she knew she was in. Eventually Lucy couldn't take it anymore. "So how did you know my father?" White stopped in the middle of a sip and put his drink down. "He and I were very close. I was an orphan, surviving on the streets and back alleys of Cairo, when one day he showed up on a mission. To make a long story short his mission resulted in the destruction of my place of dwelling, so he took responsibility of me and brought me back with him. To here, America, the land of opportunity. A place where I could do more than survive, I could **live**. He helped me become an American, taught me, watched over me, cared for me like a father cares for a son."

He paused for a moment, and Lucy used this time to ask another question.

"Did my mother know about you?"

"Yes. The cover story was that my father died in Vietnam and my mother died of a broken heart. Sheila was always very kind to me, and even made my first birthday cake for my first birthday here." Suddenly his face darkened. "Soon after that birthday, my 10th birthday and approximately one year after meeting him, your father was **killed**.

The sudden harshness in his voice made her flinch, and unable to stop herself she looked to the door once more. Only the thought that White could probably kill her before she even managed to fully leave her chair made her stay. "_I need to wait for the right moment_." Going back over what she had learned, a question came into Lucy's mind, which she voiced. "How did my father die?" The mug in White's hand shattered, sending sharp shards all over the table. White didn't even flinch when he held up his hand to examine the three pieces of porcelain protruding from it. As he pulled them out one at a time he spoke.

"Your father's death can be attributed to the Soviet Union. During the Cold War, when the Russians successfully compromised the security of the C.I.A., they compromised **our** security as well. On his last mission, your father was betrayed and murdered by a man named Zayne Farran. I never discovered all of the details surrounding the incident, so this is all I can tell you about that. I can tell you, however, that if I ever discover the location of the traitor, I will **kill** him; may even invite you or your brother, if either of you are still alive after tonight. And I will make his death painful, very painful."

Lucy didn't know what to make of what her captor was saying. "Just how important was my father to you? He rescued you from Egypt and gave you a life here, I know but, you act like he was really your dad or something!" For the longest time after that White just stared at her with an unreadable face; and all of the fear and unease she was feeling, which she had been able to somewhat ignore while she was talking, came back to the forefront of her mind. So lost was she that she almost missed White reach into an inside pocket and pull something out. It was a folded piece of paper, yellow with age.

"What is that?" She asked, eyeing it with an unexplainable amount of trepidation.

"This," he replied, handing it to her, "is something that will elicit a very strong emotional response from you."

Frowning at the cryptic warning he gave, Lucy unfolded the paper, noticing as she did so that it seemed to have been unfolded and refolded many times in the past. Then her eyes actually read what was on the paper, and suddenly she couldn't focus on anything else. She looked up in shock at White and whispered, in a voice so weak that he could barely hear it, "Adoption paperwork?" He nodded yes, and said "Your father gave me that the day before he left on his final mission. If he had lived, if his partner hadn't been a traitor, than I wouldn't be your captor right now," he paused to regain control of his emotions, before they could do more than mess up his speech, and then continued. "I would not be your captor right now, I would be... your older brother."

She looked back at the paper she was holding, tears threatening to fall; and for the last time, White allowed himself to be Will again. Walking over, he gently rubbed Lucy's back until she quieted down, at which point he said "Keep the form, I made copies." She looked up at him, and watched Will faded back to White, counting herself lucky that she was able to see even a moment of the person that her father had known.

Seeing that she had calmed down, White nodded in satisfaction, inwardly grinning; female hysterics were always so bothersome. Now to-one of his men burst through the door.

"Sir!" He stopped at the odd site, but a glare from White started him back up. "Sir, Fisk Black has arrived; with him are Jason Black, Angela Faunt, and the traitor Derek Church."White quickly stood, grabbed his mask, put it on, and began marching to the door. "Where are they now?"

"They are currently fighting our forces upstairs. Church was severely injured by a grenade causing Faunt to stay out of the fighting to help him." **"That leaves the two Blacks. Excellent; go back to your post."** "Yes sir!" The guard went back to wherever his post was, and White was just about to leave as well when suddenly "Wait." Lucy had stood and grabbed White's left arm. "You don't have to do this, any of this." She couldn't tell what he was thinking with the mask on, but the fact that he hadn't ripped his arm free from her grip at least meant that he was listening. "What is blowing up D.C. going to prove? Senator Netton and the others wanted to shut all of this down, destroy your dream, I get that! But destroying everything my dad died for won't- Gaauh!" In a moment White had broken free of her grip, and was now using one arm to dangle her two feet off the ground. Then, while he continued on his way and Lucy struggled to get a breath through his iron grip, he spoke.

"**It appears I was mistaken, you are a herd-animal just like your brother. James Black did not die for these simpering fools just so that they could wallow in their own filth! He died for his precious people, so that we could live, and grow, and prosper! They, the terrified masses, would deny us this, our right!"** He smashed open the door to his office and threw her into his chair, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain from her. But he either didn't notice, or didn't care. **"They are cowards, afraid to advance because they cannot control the future! Your father died in vain!" **He stopped his rant and looked at her, and in his eyes she saw death.

"**They must be exterminated, all of them, and once they are gone then I will lead the masses, until they are no longer masses, but true people; beyond weakness, beyond imperfection, even beyond Good and Evil!" **The next moment he had pulled an extendable baton from his sleeve, blood dripping from its end, and extended it. As she looked White right in the face, only one thought crossed her mind.

"_Dad, what did you unleash?_"

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_**Several minutes ago**_

"Church, tell them everything you told me." After White's message the four split up, Fisk and Church in a spare company vehicle, Jason and Angela in Jason's Mustang Cobra. They had just arrived at White's warehouse, and were currently gathered around Jason's car planning their strategy. Church nodded at Fisk, and then began.

"From my years as head of security for White's lab, I learned a couple things about how the reactor works. The main thing that sets White's reactor apart from current ones is how the power output is managed. He uses powerful electromagnetic fields to keep the energy in check; he once told me that this will allow more energy to be created safely without fear of a meltdown. If he's going to cause a meltdown, the most likely way would be for him to lower the frequency of the shields, causing them to be slowly overwhelmed."

Jason asked "Why wouldn't he just turn them off completely and be done with it?"

"They were designed so that they can't be turned off while the reactor is running. Besides, White isn't the suicidal type; he'll be planning to get away in time." Fisk spoke up then. "How many ways are there for him to get away?"

"There are only two ways to get into and out of the underground lab; one is through the cargo lift in the warehouse, as you all know. The other way is through a secret passageway connecting from White's office to his apartment complex. That way is out of the question, as it can only be accessed with a DNA sample; White's, to be specific. The warehouse entrance is our only option, and it **will **be heavily guarded."

"How heavy are we talking about?" Angela asked. There were only four of them, after all. Church hesitated to answer, but then with a quick glance at the building said "White has control over most of the police force in D.C., that's why the response to his attack on Netton earlier took so long. Obviously he can't have all of them here, because that would be too noticeable, but we can expect a dozen to two dozen hostiles; maybe even a SWAT team or two." Several curses could be heard at this, and Angela said "That's a lot of bullets coming at us."

"He has my sister; it doesn't matter how many there are, we'll kill them all." The other three nodded in agreement.

"Well thankfully Fisk," Jason started, stepping to the trunk of his car and unlocking it, "you have me as a cousin." With that he threw open the trunk door, allowing the others to see the rows of guns stored inside, as well as hundreds of rounds of ammunition. Stunned, Fisk picked up what he recognized as a SPAS-12 combat shotgun, looked at Jason, and asked "Do you have a plan to get in?"

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Inside the warehouse, 15 guards in full combat gear waited for the heroes to start their assault. Directly beside the door stood two guards, with the door between them; the one to the left of the door turned to the other and said "Hey."

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever wonder why we're here?"

"That's one of Life's great mysteries, isn't it? Why are we here? Are we the product of some cosmic coincidence, or is there a God, watching everything. You know, with a plan for us and stuff. I don't know man, but it keeps me up at night."

A moment of silence, and then "What!? I mean why are we standing here, by this door?"

"Oh. Well, we're standing here to keep watch over this door and to let in the reinforcements when they get here." A moment later and there is a knock on the door. The one who asked why they were there turns to the door and yells "Who is it?"

A gruff voice responds, "We are reinforcements, open up."

Outside the building, Angela whispers, "There is no way this is going to work, no one is this stupid."

"Shh, you'll jinx us." Jason whispers back to her, and then turned back to the door. Knowing there really was no better plan, Fisk and Church kept silent.

Back inside,

The philosophical guard reached to unlock the door when the first guard stopped him.

"Wait a moment, something doesn't seem right." To the door he asked, "What's the password?"

Jason turned to Church. "What's the password?" Church's face lost most of its color. "That's new; shit."

Angela hit Jason's shoulder. "I told you it wouldn't work." Rubbing his shoulder, Jason got an idea. To the guards he spoke "The password is…password." The sound of three palms hitting forehead could be heard behind them. Fisk was just about to shoot the lock when suddenly, "Password accepted, get in here" and the lock clicked.

The four shared a look; each understood that once they went through that door, there would be no going back, no stopping, until White was dead. Readying his M4 carbine, Fisk said "Here we come" and, bursting through the door, opened fire. A guard standing in a direct line from the door went down without even getting a chance to raise his weapon, another following soon after. Jason was the second one in, quickly blowing the head off a third hostile before aiming at the two door guards, but before he could fire they both dropped their guns and made a run for it. Jason thought he heard one of them yell about not signing up for shit like this; that got him grinning.

Quickly recovering from the initial attack, the remaining guards returned fire, soon forcing Fisk and the others to retreat to some desks for cover. For several tense seconds neither side could overcome the other. Blind firing over the desk he had knocked over, Jason turned to the others.

"We're wasting too much time! Lay down some covering fire, Church and I'll flank 'em!" Fisk and Angela immediately began firing over the makeshift cover, while the other two broke off and began circling around to the right of the dug-in hostiles, Jason taking point. Scurrying from one piece of cover to the next, they were almost to where they needed to be when suddenly from behind him Jason heard **"Grenade!!" **Reacting with the speed of a soldier who had experienced it many times before, Jason dove behind a nearby van; seconds later the grenade blew, and a cry of shock and pain could be heard throughout the warehouse. Looking around his barrier, Jason saw a sight that made his blood curdle.

Church had not reacted with the speed of a soldier, and was currently laying there on the floor with blood pouring out of multiple holes blown through his body by the grenade; it didn't look like he was breathing. A deep growl began coming from deep down Jason's throat, and red began creeping around the edges of his vision. Reaching up, Jason quickly but carefully removed contacts from his eyes; what were thought to be a forest green color were revealed as blood-red. Grasping his shotgun in his left hand and Church's in his right, one thought went through his head.

"_I'm going to send them to HELL!_"

At that moment several things happened at nearly the same time. Angela took down a guard with a headshot; Fisk threw a grenade, dropping three and wounding the rest with the resulting rain of shrapnel; and Jason launched himself from cover, taking down two with twin blasts shotgun fire. After this he mercilessly speared two more with the still hot ends of the guns, let go, unsheathed his wrist blades, and slashed out the throats of the last two; all of his actions took a total of six seconds.

Seeing that the last of them were gone, Fisk and Angela quickly hurried over to Church's prone body; Fisk taking a moment longer to cast a questioning look Jason's way. Jason shook his head, silently saying that they'd talk later. Fisk nodded in agreement, and then turned to catch up with Angela. Sheathing his blades, Jason started to slowly trudge over as well, until he heard her yell "He's still alive!" At hearing that he picked up the pace, arriving just as Fisk did. "Is he going to be okay?" She kept her focus on stopping the bleeding while she answered his question.

"He's still alive for now, but I need to stay to work on him. You and Fisk will have to face White alone." Fisk nodded and began heading for the lift. Jason bent down and whispered "If no one comes up that lift in five minutes, I want you to leave, got that?" Not waiting for a response he stood up and joined his cousin in the lift. Tossing Fisk a handgun, Jason smirked as they began going down. "Hey, I just had a great idea."

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A/N: Okay people, another chapter done. There is going to be one more chapter, and maybe an epilogue, depending on how long the final chapter starts to run. And in case you were wondering about Jason's eyes, well, they are connected to his abilities at mimicry. And the dripping sound that Lucy heard? It was from blood running down White's hidden baton and hitting the floor.


	12. The End

Disclaimer: Own Better Days, I do not. That would be Jay Naylor who owns it.

Original Days

Chapter Twelve: The End

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The lift soon reached its destination, and Fisk and Jason stepped out side-by-side, pistols raised and ready. All of the doors in the hall were closed except for the one leading into the control room, which aside from the light being generated by the reactor itself was completely dark. This led Jason to one inescapable conclusion; it was a trap.

"Hey Fisk." Jason whispered as they slowly moved to the open door. "How are we going to stop the meltdown without Church? It's not like **we **know how everything works down here."

"Maybe, but there is one thing we can figure out how to work; the floodgates. We release them,drown the reaction, and it doesn't matter if the magnetic shield goes." Jason nodded in agreement. "That's a good idea."

"**Yes, it is a good idea." **A white-gloved fist impacted with Jason's chest while another smashed into Fisk's jaw, sending both several feet through the air before landing at the bottom of the steps leading to the control room. White slowly stepped from the shadows of that room as they got back up. **"This positioning seems familiar, does it not? Only now there is one more person for me to tear apart."**

Seeing that his gun had skidded behind White, Fisk quickly got into a fighting stance, Jason following suit. "Where. Is. My. Sister." Fisk demanded in a voice like iron. White looked at him in what was probably boredom, it was hard to tell with that mask.

"**Your sister? Oh, she is not here anymore. She held no more use for me so I let her go."**

Fisk and Jason shared a look. "We don't believe you."

White scoffed. **"Like I care about your beliefs. You,"** he said, looking at Fisk, **"a pathetic little boy stumbling around in the dark, desperately seeking the approval of a father you will never know. And you,"** he said, switching his gaze to Jason. **"An accident, a mistake, surrounded by family yet completely alone." **Jason's body stiffened, then began shaking from barely controlled rage, and Fisk heard a soft growl coming from him.

"Shut up." He said.

White smiled behind his mask. **"Completely without purpose."** That did it; with a roar of fury Jason launched himself at White faster than Fisk had ever seen someone move. Apparently White hadn't been expecting such speed either, as the next thing he knew a fist had implanted itself in his mask, and he was rolling down the steps. Hairline fractures spread through the hunk of ceramic, until it shattered completely. Standing up, White glared at them, got into his own fighting stance, and said "That hurt." Then the fight was on in earnest.

Fisk dashed forward and sent a powerful uppercut at White's right side. White leaned out of the way, and then used his positioning to deliver a knee to Fisk's gut. Fisk jumped up, dissipating the amount of force he received, and then rolled to the side. Jason was there in an instant, and before White knew it he was ducking and weaving through a vicious barrage of punches and kicks. Grabbing Jason's extended right fist, he spun around and threw him into Fisk, who was charging in from behind.

White took several steps back to create some distance. Jason was the first to recover and charged at him, then suddenly dropped down to perform a leg sweep. White dodged to the right, directly into the path of Fisk's roundhouse kick. Taking the blow, White then trapped Fisk's leg with his arms and pulled, causing Fisk to stumble and lose his balance. When this happened White swept Fisk's foot out from under him and, while Fisk was falling, swung him into the nearby wall; a loud thunk could be heard from Fisk's face colliding with it, leaving an actual dent in the metal. Before he could admire his handiwork however Jason tackled him from behind, slamming **him**into the wall. Jason then quickly leapt back from his opponent.

Surprised by the impact, White barely got his arm up in time to block the flying axe kick from Jason; before he could fall to the floor Jason spun around and threw a hook kick, connecting with White's neck and sending him flying. At this point Fisk had rejoined the fight, and started raining blows on White's prone form, before he was kicked away.

Standing up, White quickly appraised the situation, and came to a conclusion: the two of them together just might be good enough to beat him. _"Well then, I guess I'll just have to separate them." _

While White was considering his options, Fisk and Jason were trying to recover from the fight. Suddenly White dashed forward and delivered a knee to Jason's face, and then spun around and hit Fisk with an elbow strike to his face, sending him stumbling to the side of the hallway opposite from Jason. Jason ran at White from behind, but was stopped when White turned around and grabbed his throat. Struggling for breath, Jason threw all manner of strikes at White, but none had any power behind them. White punched him once in the face, and then threw him through a door leading into a maintenance hallway, soon joining him on the other side. Fisk ran to rejoin the fight, but right before he got through the door slid into place and locked.

"Jason!" he called, but no answer came from the other side. He looked desperately for a lock override, but when he found and pressed it nothing happened. He wasn't going to get through that door; Jason was on his own.

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As soon as he landed from White's throw, Jason scrambled to his feet and resumed his fighting stance. His eyes scanned the room, absorbing and memorizing every detail. It was a two-level maintenance room of some kind, with numerous gauges and displays lining the wall. None of the lighting was on, with the only source of light being a soft blue glow emanating from the second level, probably a viewport looking out to the core itself; with his "special" eyes, that glow would be more than enough to see by. Situated several feet behind him was a ramp leading up to the second level.

All of this was taken in the time it took White to activate the lock mechanism on the door and turn around to face him. "Well, it appears you must face me on your own now… I am sorry, what is your name again?"

Jason tried to sound more confident in his chances of surviving than he felt. "Eh, I wouldn't expect someone like you to remember anyway, considering how many names you have gone through. Let's see, there's White, Will Hite," he paused, piquing White's interest. "Not to mention, **Asim**." Immediately all humor drained from White's face, and he asked in a deadly tone "Where did you hear that name?"

"I heard it from an old man name Eric Faunt. A man whose trust and faith you betrayed!"

"I did not betray anyone! Everything I have done I did for this country! Because they, the senators and politicians and bureaucrats, would allow us all to stay as we are, to stagnate; how could I allow that?!"

"I don't believe you," Jason said, hoping to get his opponent riled up so that he would make mistakes. "I think that you can't stand the fact that not everyone can live up to your memories of James Black." Jason smirked. "Or maybe it's 'cause **you **can't live up to your memories of him; well?"

White said nothing; he only sped forward and threw a punch that Jason was barely able to avoid. He wasn't able to avoid the follow-up punch however, and was sent reeling from the blow.

White gave him no time for recovery, staying on the offensive and quickly forcing Jason back and up the ramp. Later on in life, Jason would compare it to like fighting a machine, a relentless, tireless machine that wouldn't stop until its objective was met. But he had an advantage that White didn't.

As the exchange wore on, White's look of triumph changed to one of frustration, as Jason managed to block more and more of his strikes. Not only that, but his look of fear had changed to one of concentration, with the only visible movement coming from his eyes.

"_Wait,_" White thought. "_His eyes, something is off about them._" A name flashed unbidden through his mind, causing him to pause.

"_Amedeo._"

The slight pause was all Jason needed to land a solid punch to White's face, though White quickly made up for it with a back-hand that knocked Jason to his back. Spitting out a glob of blood and saliva, White went over to Jason's prone form and lifted him several feet into the air by the neck with one arm, and began strangling the life out of him. "Interesting eyes you have. They seem to have far greater tracking capabilities than the average eye. I wonder if it is hereditary, or some kind of random mutation. Never mind, it does not matter; you will be dead shortly, and then I will kill Fisk and leave this location."

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

White spun around to confront the speaker, only to get slammed in the face by a fire extinguisher. Dropping Jason, White clutched at his face in pain; a second blow, this time to the back of his head, sent him tumbling down the ramp. Once there he lay in a motionless heap.

Coughing, Jason looked up to his savior to see…

"Lucy?"

Dropping her makeshift weapons, Lucy bent down to help Jason to his feet. "Fancy meeting you here" she joked. He continued to look at her in confusion. "White said that he let you go, why are you still here?"

"Family sticks together. Besides, how could I live with myself if it meant being the damsel in distress?" They both allowed themselves to laugh at that; but their minds were quickly brought back to the situation when a tremor swept through the structure, and the glow coming from the reactor core intensified. The two ran to the nearby viewport; just in time to witness one of the pylons generating the electro-magnetic shield break apart, collapsing to the ground in a shower of red-hot metal and sparks.

Jason looked at Lucy, worry etched into his face. "That can't be good. Come on, we need to get back to Fisk." They rushed to the ramp, but slowed down when they saw White's prone form.

"You think he's dead?" Jason asked.

"He doesn't seem like the kind to play dead, so he either really is dead, or he's just unconscious. I did hit him pretty hard."

"Well I don't know about you," Jason said, turning to look at her with a gaze laced with fear. "But I really don't want to be stepping over him only for him to surprise attack me. How'd you get in here anyway?" She turned around and began hurrying away from the ramp, Jason following close behind. "There's a walkway overlooking the control room that has a door leading into here. Come on, we don't have much time!"

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Behind them, a pair of eyes opened.

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As soon as they had entered the control room Jason understood how he had missed the walkway the first time he had been there. The walkway ran along the walls of the room, and was made of the same dull grey material. Someone would have to know what they were looking for in order to see it. Lucy noticed something far different, however.

"Fisk!"

There he was, going over the instructions for releasing the floodgates. At Lucy's call his head snapped around, a startled look on his face. But this quickly changed to a look of relief as he saw who it was. "Thank God you're both all right."

Jason smirked. "Yeah, well, remember to never get on this chick's bad side. It won't end well."

Fisk started to retort, but then a flash of movement behind them caught his eye; "Behind you!" Instincts kicking in, Jason pushed Lucy away before being tackled from behind by White. The weight getting slammed against the railing was too much for it, and with a tremendous groaning and screeching of metal it buckled, sending the two struggling enemies falling. They landed in a heap on the table-like device in the center of the room; immediately upon landing the two rolled away from each other to create some fighting room.

White was to his feet first unfortunately, and threw a roundhouse kick to Jason's face, blood and spit flying from his mouth from the impact. Recovering, Jason yelled out as he charged White once more, "Seriously, just die already!"

Trusting in Jason to be able to hold off White for a moment, Fisk rushed to Lucy, who had lowered herself from the walkway. "Lucy, are you okay?"

"I'm fine" she answered. "I just wouldn't mind being left out of all this next time."

"Speaking of which, why the hell are you still here anyway!? You should be-" a loud crash could be heard behind them, and Jason screamed in pain. "Look, never mind, it doesn't matter now; what matters now is stopping White." She understood what he meant. "What do you need me to do?" Fisk nodded in appreciation. "You'll have to activate the floodgates. Inside White's office should be a large handle-shaped key; take it. Insert it into the corresponding slot in the wall opposite to his office, and turn it clockwise 45 degrees."

"And then what?" she asked.

"Run like hell, now go! Jason and I will keep White off you!" She nodded once and started running for the office. A second later Jason flew through where she had been standing, crashing into the glass viewport and causing several cracks to start forming. "Ughgh…"

"Jason! What the hell happened to you!?" He was battered and bruised, with his face literally covered in blood, and more dripping down his neck.

"White…he ripped the stitching out of my face, and then tried to stuff it down my throat. Ouch."

"Stay here, I can-" "No!" Jason wobbly stood back up. "I can still fight. Besides, we still need to use my idea, remember?" Fisk looked at him in concern for a brief moment, but it quickly changed into one of understanding. "Just try to keep up."

As one they charged at White; Jason going for the right, Fisk for the left. White rolled forward under their swings, and then spun around with a round kick aimed at Jason. Before it could connect though Fisk spun around with a kick of his own, stopping the attack and leaving White open. Jason launched himself at their enemy, and delivered a crushing elbow blow to White's chest, eliciting a crack and a highly satisfying cry of pain from him. Staggering back, White made a flicking motion, and a knife slid from his sleeve into his hand.

His eyes flicked back and forth between the two, waiting for the right moment to strike. Then all of a sudden his eyes stopped at something to the right of both of them, and his face split into a vicious smirk; a smirk with such an intense mixture of anger and exhilaration that it was painful to look at. And then he let the blade fly, and they realized who he was looking at. Shifting his footing and tracking the weapon as it flew, Jason reached out with his right hand and caught the blade a mere inch from Lucy's face. Gasping, Lucy almost dropped the item she was holding.

It was the release key.

With a snarl Jason threw the knife back at White, charging him right behind it. White tilted his head to the left, causing the blade to fly by harmlessly. He then stepped to the side of Jason's charge and brought his knee up. When he did Jason's world exploded in agony, as he felt two, no, three ribs break from the impact. Struggling to breath, Jason could do nothing as White lifted him into the air and slammed him down onto a table; the force was too much and the table broke, sending Jason crashing to the floor.

A hint of movement behind him, and White spun around, grabbed Fisk by the throat, and slammed him into a wall. "And what were you expecting to accomplish, **Black**?" He growled into Fisk's face, watching as he struggled to escape. "If you're hoping that the little **whore **over there is going to be able to save you all, then you are dumber I thought you were; the reason being, is that after turning the key, you must enter the correct **password**, something that only I know." A faint "damn it" from Lucy could be heard to the right of them, causing White to chuckle, and then return to growling. Another violent tremor went through the lab, as another pylon fell. White paid it no mind.

"James C. Black was considered by many to be a great man, but that was a lifetime ago. And you, fool, just don't compare; Now die, as your waste of a cousin did."

Fisk stopped in his struggling and looked White in the eyes. "Go to hell." Fisk moved his right wrist in a specific motion and from out of his sleeve sprang a blade, revealing that he was wearing one of Jason's vambraces. Fisk then slashed at White's face, cutting to the bone from the left of his forehead down to the right of his chin. Letting go of Fisk, White stumbled back, grabbing his face in pain, until suddenly a blade stabbed into his back, stopping him dead in his tracks. From behind him Jason looked at Fisk and said "See Fisk, told ya' he wouldn't see it coming. Now hurry up and kill him already."

White went from starring into space to looking at Fisk with an emotion that none of them had ever seen him use before: wouldn't stop Fisk from doing what needed to be done however. Charging forward, he lifted his arm and swung down, intending to cleave White's head in two. At the last possible moment however, White lifted his left arm and shielded himself with it. The sound of cutting flesh and snapping bone could be heard, and suddenly White's left arm was lying on the floor beside him.

"**AAUUGH!!**"

Caught off guard by what had happened, Jason was unable to keep White from breaking free of his grip. Continuing to scream in agony, White head butted Fisk, and then ran at Lucy. Before he could go more than three feet though a shot rang out, and blood spurted from the sudden hole in his gut, before he coughed and fell to the floor in a motionless heap. Gasping for breath from the shock, Lucy slowly lowered her shaking arms, dropping the gun she had picked up from the floor back onto it.

Jason helped Fisk up from where he had fallen, and with each other's help they slowly made their way to Lucy's shaking form. Bending down, Fisk tenderly held Lucy as she cried, just barely hearing her cry "I don't know the password" over and over. Fisk looked from his sister to Jason forlornly, only to see him looking at White's body. Jason suddenly nodded to himself and, leaning over the siblings, typed one word into the keyboard over the slot: PROTECTOR.

That did it. Floodgates positioned all around the core opened, and with a tremendous roar hundreds of thousands of gallons of water from the Potomac began rushing in. In moments a sizzling sound could be heard, with steam already beginning to fill the room beyond the glass. Helping each other up, the three Blacks took one look at the viewport, and then began limping away, Jason's battered body being supported between the other two. Just as they were about to leave the control room, however, a weak voice came from behind them.

"So, you really did it. You had the strength of will to kill me, both of you did. Your father would be so proud; you are just like him."

Fisk and Lucy looked at each other for one moment, and then turned to look at White together. "We're not our father." Turning back around, they closed the door and continued walking to the lift. Not once did they look back; not when White began laughing, not when the glass viewport shattered from the water pressure, not when the laughter turned into strained gurgling. They didn't look back once; they didn't need to.

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A/N: It is done. White has been defeated, the meltdown has been stopped, and All three Blacks made it out alive. Expect an epilogue soon.


	13. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own Better Days. I can only pay respect to it by writing the best fan fiction I can.

Original Days

Epilogue

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_**Two weeks later.**_

On a silent afternoon, in Arlington National Cemetery, a lone figure stood unmoving. The wind tossed around his shoulder length black hair, and a dull pain resonated from the right side of his face, but his eyes never left the object of his focus; a smooth, pitch-black granite headstone, with one name on it.

Mathew Black

Suddenly a voice rose up behind the figure, and he wasn't alone anymore.

"Usually when someone checks out of the hospital, they want to forget about stuff like this."

Stopping to the right of Jason, Fisk looked at the name written on the stone for a moment, and then asked "Who was he?" Jason kept his red eyes on the stone. "My older brother; he died during a military drill when his chute failed to work." His eyes finally left the name, moving to focus on Fisk. "Not exactly the best way to go, uh?"

Fisk could only nod in agreement at that. "Were you two close?"

"Actually," Jason began as his eyes returned to the stone. "I hated him. He was the elder son, the inheritor, the one our parents would leave the family business and all of their riches to once they passed on. It really didn't help that he succeeded in whatever he did. And then there was me," he said, closing his eyes in thought. "I was the kid who wasn't meant to be born. It's not that they hated me or anything," he said quickly, noticing the way Fisk had been clenching his fist. "It's just that, as the second-born, I had no use. I would not inherit anything, I would not run anything, and I wasn't even very good at the stuff that they did give me to do; I was completely without use to them.

"But when he died, I realized something. I realized that even though I hated him, he was always there for me; always helping me to improve and grow, even if it was only by being an obstacle to overcome. And I guess that's what older siblings are for."

Fisk looked at him as Jason went back to staring at the headstone, and muttered "I wouldn't know." After that they both stood in silence.

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After a while Jason yawned and said "Well, that's enough being emo for one day. Come on, let's get out of here." As they walked to the exit, Fisk began filling Jason in on everything he had missed while in the hospital.

Lucy and Tommy were both recovering from their respective experiences very well, and would be just fine soon enough. Tommy was even back to making jokes, and upon hearing that his wife had gone back to help fight White said "Thank goodness I didn't marry the damsel in distress, uh?"

Church was still in the hospital recovering from the injuries caused by the grenade. Apparently his operation had been very touch-and-go for a while, and if Angela hadn't been there he would most definitely be dead. Jason was also happy to hear that once he had recovered fully Church would be joining the company.

Ryan and Netton had been able to come to a mutually satisfying agreement, though as soon as Fisk began trying to explain Jason yawned and waved it off, saying that he had no patience for politics. Silently agreeing, Fisk moved on to other, more pressing matters.

The day after White was stopped; Ryan led several agents on a raid of White's apartment. Inside they found dozens of empty cases and folders, evidence that some of White's men had escaped capture. Ryan had immediately ordered that the apprehension of those men, and the recovery of that research, was their highest priority, before someone had the idea to follow in White's footsteps. Jason shuddered at that thought; he wasn't sure if his body could handle another fight like the one he had gone through. Fisk silently agreed with that as well.

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Eventually they made it to the gates leading out of the cemetery. Jason looked over at his partner, his friend, his cousin, and sighed. "Well, now that everything's back to normal, I suppose that you'll be leaving pretty soon, huh?"

Fisk looked at him with an inscrutable look on his face; but before long it changed to a smirk, and then to a full grin. "Well, about that. Elizabeth and I talked long and hard about this, and came to a decision. I'm staying to work with the company." After Fisk said this everything went quiet, and the look on Jason's face was priceless. After a second of silence he came up with a most intelligent reply.

"Say wha?"

"I said I'm going to keep working at the company. I left in the first place because I was afraid; afraid that I wasn't living my own life, or following my own dreams. I was afraid that I was justliving a shadow of my father's life. But now I think I understand; beyond serving our country, we all need to find our own personal reason to do what we do, no matter what that is. That is what defines an original life. I don't think White had that other reason, I think he became so focused on the country that he forgot what made up the country; people."

Jason nodded in understanding. "So, what's your new reason, your new drive to do this job?"

Fisk began walking away to his car, but not before giving his answer. "Family; whether it's at home waiting for me, or on the field fighting beside me." Jason smiled at that; knowing that no matter what struggles came in the future, no matter what pains and sorrows would assault them in the days ahead, he knew that they would face this new, original life, together.

The End

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Ending Credits

Song: What I've done, by Linkin Park

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Characters

Fisk Black-Christian Bale

Elizabeth Black-Nichole Sullivan

Ryan Tobs-Mathew Fox

Jason Black-Dante Basco

Senator Zimmer-John Noble

Tommy Erikson-Danny Cooksey

Lucy Erikson-Christy Carlson Romano

Jay Oralyn-Jason Marsden

Mr. White-Ron Perlman

Angela Faunt-Grey DeLisle

Senator Netton-Jason Isaacs

Erik Faunt-John Mahoney

James Black-Peter Cullen

Asim-David Kaufman

Aiko-Stephanie Sheh

Derek Church-Burnie Burns

Guard who groped Lucy and got his face smashed for it-Jason Saldana

Guard 1-Gustavo Sorola

Guard 2-Geoff Ramsey

Acknowledgements

Better Days, Original Life, and all associated characters are the property of Jay Naylor. A giant thanks goes out to him for making all of this possible. Thanks also go to all the people who read and reviewed this story; they made it all worth it! Now let's all go and live our own original lives!


End file.
